


Living Like Kings

by CLynnB



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Baking, Brotherly Love, F/M, Family Shenanigans, Fire, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Penny Always Gets Her Way, Social Media, Swimming, Truth or Dare, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 20:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20880377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLynnB/pseuds/CLynnB
Summary: The world wants to know more about the Tracy brothers. So Lady Penelope takes it upon herself to show the world just who they are. Through YouTube (Marked as Complete but will be updated as chapters are written.)





	1. House Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a Tour of the Tracy Villa

It had been Lady Penelope’s idea, of course. The world wanted to know more about the family that had stepped up to save them, and after The Hood had outed the Tracy’s as International Rescue, and the World Council had deemed them able to continue in their efforts, society had gotten all the more curious. The media had become simply insatiable, coming up with all sorts of outlandish theories and stories about what the Tracy family got up to on their private island, away from prying eyes. 

So, in a bid to ease the family out of the shadows and back into the light, Lady Penelope decided that they should own social media. She set up Instagram accounts, and made sure that all five of the brothers posted to them. Kayo was left out of the social media, in an attempt to keep her business strictly need to know. Twitter wasn’t especially important to the Tracy family, but they could definitely get behind posting photos. Scott had a tendency to post pictures of the sky, clouds and views from his ‘Bird. Virgil posted pictures of whatever caught his fancy, from nature to food to random shots of his family. John posted pictures from space, and as such had a large following; not many people had access to the views that he did. Gordon focused on the sea, on marine life and the force of the ocean. Alan posted much like Virgil did, whatever caught his fancy, from space to food to his brothers. 

But Instagram wasn’t enough, and society wasn’t having it. They wanted more. Pictures, the media said, could be contrived. And everyone knew that their heroes were rich, filthy rich. They most likely lived like kings in a palace on their island, waited on hand and foot by a multitude of servants. It’s what made sense, after all.

So, Lady Penelope decided to up the game. If Instagram wasn’t enough, and Twitter and Facebook weren’t going to happen (because, honestly, it was hard enough to get them to have time for Instagram) then it was time to delve into YouTube. 

The first video was a tour of the Tracy home, with Scott as the host. He looked bemused, one eyebrow raised as he met Penny on the deck at the end of the pool. “Why are we doing this again?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

Penelope, out of sight, behind the camera, gave a small laugh. “Because the people want to know, Scott Tracy,” she answered. “The world is convinced that the team behind International Rescue lives like kings on a fancy hill, and I mean to show them the truth.”

“Kings, huh,” Scott grunted, turning to look out past the pool and jungle to the sea beyond. “I suppose we do have a lovely kingdom then.”

“A place in paradise?” Penelope asked, her voice soft. Scott shrugged, corners of his mouth turning down. The camera shook a little as Penny moved, and her hand came into the shot, resting gently against his arm. “Come now, Scott,” she said warmly. “You’re meant to be giving us a tour of your castle.” 

“Castle, right,” Scott huffed a laugh and turned, spreading his arms wide. “This is the pool,” he said, raising his eyebrows in jest. Lady Penelope laughed as well. “We had to have a pool, of course. We live in the tropics, for one, and Gordon is an Olympic swimmer, for two.” This managed to explain the size of the pool as well.

“Of course,” Penny murmured. “I also have a list of questions from your fans that I’ve complied, Scott, if you feel up to answering them.”

“Hmm? Why wouldn’t I feel up to it?” he asked, turning and making his way to the house, glass glistening in the sunlight. It was an impressive sight, all glass and stone and metal.  
Penny smiled. “I know how you crave your privacy.”

Scott shot her a look over his shoulder. “I live with four brothers, Pen. Four younger brothers. Not to mention Brains, Grandma and Kayo. There is no privacy.”

“Hence the cravings.” 

He led her inside, to the kitchen. “This is our kitchen,” he said, his voice a mix between amused and bland. Penny huffed and he shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly what they were expecting to see,” he said. “It’s just our house.” He glanced out the window to the jungle outside. “Granted, in a very pretty location.”

Penny stepped closer to the yellow counter, panning the camera around to take in the large, and yet modest kitchen. It wasn’t fancy, like you’d expect to see in the house of a multi-billionaire, and actually had a bit of a retro vibe. It was clean, a few mugs drying in a rack next to the sink, utensils and dishes all put away where they belonged. There was a pantry off the far end, cut into the side of the rock wall. She knew the pantry was massive, as they had enough food stored for a long time, living on an island and all. She focused on the white board hanging on the far wall, near the bar that lined the window to the deck. “Want to explain the board?” she asked, pacing closer to show off the multiple colors and doodles that filled the white space.

“What, the chore chart?” Scott asked. He blinked, shrugging again. “Sure. We each have our chores for the week written on the board. It’s color coded because we’re weird, and Virgil sometimes draws all over the place and makes it hard to read, but whatever.” One of the doodles was of Thunderbird Two squashing Thunderbird Four into a pancake and Scott had to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“Which leads us to our first question. Who does the laundry? Samson2121 from Pennsylvania wants to know,” Penny grinned. 

Scott raised an eyebrow, glancing at the board. “That’s…weird. This week, it’s Alan’s turn to do laundry,” he said, pointing to the red column on the board. “He’s also in charge of dinner on Wednesday. Gordon has vacuuming, I’m in charge of dishes and Virgil has general cleaning and tidying. Next week we rotate.” Scott sighed, not bothering to comment on the additions to the board that told of Thunderbird maintenance, Pod cleaning and Hanger/Silo organization. “We’re each in charge of keeping our own rooms and bathrooms clean. And yes,” he held up a hand to stave off the inevitable question, “we each have our own bathroom. We learned that lesson when we still lived at the ranch. That house only had two bathrooms and it wasn’t fun for anyone at times.”

“So, everyone gets their weekly chores, along with their expected ones, and a day for dinner?” Penny asked, seeking clarification for the camera. She already knew this.  
Scott nodded. “Yes, although rescues sometimes throw things out of whack. And Johnny’s chores tend to be up on Five, and he doesn’t tend to be here for dinners in general. Grandma usually cooks when we’re too busy,” he grimaced, “but we’ve been working on that.”

Penny nodded, panning the camera around again, to once more take in the kitchen and dining area. “So, this level is just kitchen and dining?” she asked. They hadn’t actually focused on the large dining table near the back of the room, but it was there, in all its bright red glory. Very retro, but so very Tracy.

Scott shook his head, pointing down the rock corridor behind them. “No. Laundry is down that hall. So are the maintenance areas, and Brains’ quarters.” He frowned. “We told Brains that he could have a space in the main house, you know, with windows. But for some reason that man just wants to be in his cave.” He shrugged again, looking a little baffled. “I just don’t get it.”

Penny laughed. “He is an odd duck,” she agreed. “Okay, I doubt we need to actually see the laundry room. Even with the industrial sized washers and dryers. But I do have another question. From IWannaFly34 in South Africa: Do you keep the Thunderbirds on the island with you?” 

Scott paused, throwing a completely incredulous look over his shoulder. “No,” he said. It was a good thing that Penny had warned him about a few of the questions she would be asking. This one, specifically. “Where would we keep them? The basement?”

She laughed, her voice delighted as she continued towards the stairs at the back of the room, forcing Scott to keep walking. “Well, what do you keep in your basement?” she asked.  
Scott paused again, his face scrunching. “I…don’t know. Do we even have a basement?” he asked her.

“Why are you asking me?” she questioned back, sounding baffled. “And shouldn’t you know if you do or not?”

They were standing in the middle of the stairs now, Scott just staring into the camera in confusion. “I mean,” he drawled. “It would make sense that we have a basement. But…I’ve never actually thought to look for one.” He shrugged it off. “I’ll have to ask Gordon or Alan. They’d know.”

“And why would they know?” Penny asked as they continued to climb the stairs. 

“They’re the ones that have thoroughly explored this place. They know every nook and cranny. We’ve only lived here for about seven years, actually,” Scott said in explanation. They exited the rocky stairwell, stepping into a bright, open space. “Welcome to our living room,” Scott said, once again throwing his arms wide. He glanced around and then did a double take to the sunken section of the room, frowning. 

Penny followed as he paced to the edge, crouching down to gently place a hand on Virgil’s forehead. The younger was sprawled across the couch, dead asleep. He was dressed in just his gray tank and a set of khaki shorts, barefoot with one leg wrapped in bandages and a splint around his wrist. His hair was mussed, his face pale and Scott, clearly, hadn’t expected to see him sleeping there. “He okay?” Penny whispered and Scott glanced up at her before eyeing Virgil again.

He straightened with a sigh, crooking a finger and leading her away from the slumbering giant. “He’s fine. Got caught up in a landslide yesterday. Saved the three kids though. And thirteen others.” There was no mention of the lives lost during that tragic accident. He looked around the room. “This is our lounge,” he repeated, gesturing. “We hang out in here a lot.” Again, it was a very retro look. All wood and metal and stone. Fake plants, because holy cow they didn’t have time to try and keep real ones alive. It was clean, but lived in. There was a book on the holo-table, a tablet lying across the desk. Sheet music sat on top of the piano, and Gordon had left his shoes by the balcony door. There was the staircase to the loft, and another staircase back behind them, leading to the next floor up.

“There’s the couches and chairs, where Virgil is sleeping,” Penny said, adding to the tour dialogue when it was obvious that Scott didn’t exactly know what to say. “The table in the middle is a holodeck of sorts.” She zoomed in on the six portraits on the wall, by-passing Kayo’s quickly so that it wouldn’t be focused on. “These didn’t used to be of the boys in uniform,” she stated, “But since The Hood outed them, they decided to change them.”

She panned to the door. “This door leads to the balcony, which seconds as an awning for the deck down below. And here’s a question of my own,” she grinned. “Can you jump from the balcony to the pool?”

“Yes,” Scott groaned. “But please don’t, at the risk of giving me a heart attack. It’s now against the rules to do so, under pain of cleaning Two with a toothbrush.”

Penny laughed, quieting quickly when Virgil shifted on the couch. He really was a little to large to be lying there, but to each their own. “Okay, so balcony there. Behind me is the grand piano.”

Scott leaned against said piano, allowing Penny to continue her little diatribe. “The piano belongs to Virgil,” she added, grinning at Scott. It had once belonged to their mother but had been passed down to Virgil as he was really the only one that used it. “Maybe one day we’ll get him to play for everyone.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Maybe,” he conceded. He pointed back behind the piano to the desk. “That’s Dad’s desk,” he frowned again, face tightening as he gazed at the red stained wood. “Or, I guess, my desk now. I do a lot of the work for TI there. John does too, when he’s dirtside.” Behind the desk was a bookshelf filled with what looked like board games, and some souvenirs from around the world. Gesturing to the other end of the room, “And there’s the pool table.” A large, ornate thing that was clearly antique and yet still well loved. A motion to the loft above them. “And the mini-library. The big library is in the Round House, which was actually the house for the Kyranos when they lived here, but since her parents passed, Kayo has moved into the main house with us and we made their old place into a larger library.”

“The Round House?” Penny asked, clearly asking him to elaborate. He led her to the large glass wall and pointed to the house up at the top of the hill. “Ah.”

“Yeah,” Scott sighed. “The Kyranos were friends of Dad’s and he gave them a job and a place to live. They took care of the grounds and meals when they were here, and Kayo practically grew up with us.” Yes, he knew that he had just admitted that they had basically had servants living here at one point, but the Kyranos had been family, just like Brains and he wouldn’t just not mention them.

“So why do you have a mini-library here, if you have a larger one up there?” Penny asked.

“Because it’s a good ten minute walk up to the Round House either through the jungle or through the tunnels. And we all like to have a good book on hand, so we keep our favorites here. Virgil sometimes paints up there in the loft, when he doesn’t want to stay in his studio.”

“Which leads to our next question,” Penny said after a moment’s pause. “From multiple people around the world: What are all of your hobbies when you’re not out saving lives?”  
Scott blinked at her, pausing to gather his thoughts. “Um…well, we don’t have a lot of downtime, to be honest,” he said. “But when we do…from youngest to oldest, Alan likes to play video games, although he’s also supposed to be doing his school work. He does like to experiment in the kitchen, which is sometimes fun and sometimes not so fun. He likes to build and tinker too. Um…Gordon swims, explores the ocean and beach and mainly just becomes a fish. He’s also a prankster. Which…yeah.” He grimaced again. “Virgil usually paints, plays music or can be found tinkering. He’s our artistic one for all that he’s built like a bear. John studies the stars. He likes to write papers in his free time. He also likes to cook. Although, to be fair, he’s helping me run TI so…” He shrugged. “I’m usually working, to be honest. IR and TI take up most of my time if I’m not running herd on my brothers. But if I have time, I like to read a good book.” 

“And Kayo and Brains?” Penny asked.

“Brains hardly ever takes a day off, even when we beg,” Scott said, rolling his eyes. “Although Virgil can sometimes get him to calm down. And if he has a hobby outside of his work, I don’t know what it is. Kayo is…Kayo. She likes a lot of things and I’m not going to answer your question as to what.”

“Smart man,” Penny murmured. She pointed the camera towards a hall, partially hidden by the protruding fireplace. “So, what’s down there?” she asked, and followed Scott as he started to walk that way.

“Virgil’s studio, for one,” he said, pacing down the hall to stop at the door. “I’m not going to go in, as this is his domain and we rarely ever cross it, but we can peek inside.” He opened the door and she trained the camera inside, showing off a room filled with canvases, some finished, some halfway done and others blank. Papers were scattered across a desk, a keyboard set up against one wall and a large shelf system filled with paints and art supplies on another. Photographs and sketches covered one of the walls. She focused the camera on one of the finished paintings, a beautiful piece of birds in flight over a large lake at sunset. She just knew it had come from a picture he had taken after a rescue somewhere.

“He’s very talented,” she whispered. For some reason, this space seemed to require reverence. 

“He is,” Scott agreed, closing the door. He opened another, across the hall. “This is the gym, which should be a little obvious.” There was gym equipment, hanging sand bags, a door to a bathroom, and couch all in this room. The room was painted a stark white in contrast to Virgil’s messy studio, which had been painted a light green, where the walls could be seen. “We need to keep in peak physical shape, so having a gym was tantamount.”

“Of course,” Penny stated, moving down the hall to the next room.

Scott opened the door with a sigh. “This was supposed to be my office,” he said, explaining the desk and multitude of filing cabinets and bookshelves. “I do most of my work out at the desk in the lounge, though, so this room is mostly just file storage, to be honest.” It was a rather impersonal room, aside from the clutter, and he just shut the door and moved on. 

Opening another door led to a room that had a bunch of couches, chairs and beanbags, as well as a projector aimed at a blank, white wall. The back wall had a bookcase filled with electronics. “We decided to have a theater room,” he said with a shrug, “but it doesn’t see much use. We don’t have a lot of time for movies, and generally can’t agree on something to watch anyway. We do use this room for video game competitions at times though, if we have enough downtime.”

Okay, this was getting a little sad, Penny realized, with how much time the boys obviously didn’t have. There was only one more room in this hall, though, and then the staircase up to the next level (although there had been two others in the lounge too). There was also the hidden door that would lead down to the silos and Thunderbird Two’s hanger, but they weren’t going to mention that. 

Scott opened the last door, showing off a room that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a hospital. There were three beds, and three sets of state-of-the-art equipment. The room was a crisp white, while all the bedding was a light blue. There was a bathroom off to one end, and a massive storage room next to it. On one of the walls was an artificial window, with a light that mimicked sunlight, since they had built into the volcano and didn’t have access to natural light for this room. “Our infirmary, or med-bay, depending on who you ask,” Scott said softly. “We’re a little isolated out here,” he said in way of explanation. “Not to mention our jobs. We tend to get hurt at times.”  
“How trained are you?” Penny asked, blinking away the tears that wanted to form. She’d visited often enough to know just how used this room was. “It’s a question by IwouldbeSpidey in England.”

“In…what?” Scott mumbled, a little confused. “Medical?” She nodded, the camera bobbing with her. “Oh.” He paused for a moment, thinking. Absently putting away a roll of bandages, probably the ones that had been used on Virgil’s leg, he turned to her and leaned against the counter that ran along the wall opposite the door, the one that had the artificial window. “We all started with basic EMT training, and John and I are still at that level. Gordon got some additional training in water-based rescue, and Alan is working towards Paramedic which is where Virgil is officially at.”

“Officially?” Penny asked, eyebrow raised. Explain for the people, her gaze said. They need to know just how much of yourselves you’ve put into your chosen careers.  
Scott shrugged. “Unofficially, he’s on par with an ER specialist. He can handle just about anything short of surgery, as can Brains. Virgil has always been interested in medicine, just not enough to actually seek a job in it.”

“Art, music, engineering and medicine,” Penny said with an impressed whistle.

Scott grinned. “Yeah, he’s our overachiever.”

There was an off-camera scoff. “Of come off it,” Penny groused. “Your whole family is filled with overachievers. I mean, really, there’s you the decorated Air Force pilot, John the published Astronaut and Linguist of like twenty languages, Virgil who we’ve already covered, Gordon the WASP trained Olympic swimmer that somehow beat all the odds against all medical say, and Alan the sixteen year old race-car champion astronaut which is just ridiculous at all levels.” She gave a large, exaggerated sigh. “You boys make the rest of the world look bad.”

Scott was blushing, and he ran a hand through his hair, a little uncomfortable. “That was never our intention,” he said. “We were just taught to always do our best.”

“And then you took your best and decided to save lives with it,” Penny said, her tone no longer exasperated, but somewhat loving instead. There was a heavy amount of respect there as well. 

“Yes, well…” Scott let the sentence die, averting his gaze.

Penny took pity on him, giving a small smile. “Is there anything else on this level?” she asked, for the sake of the viewers. She knew this island home better than her own manor at times, it seemed.

“No,” Scott said, exiting the infirmary. He shut the door and started up the stairs. “Up here, on the next two levels, are our bedrooms. Us boys are on this next floor, while Grandma and Kayo are on the one above.” He glanced back at Penny and the camera. “I have permission from my brothers to show their rooms, but I don’t have permission from Grandma or Kayo. Or Brains, for that matter, which is why we didn’t tour his quarters.”

The stepped out into the hall, a long space with staircases at both ends, one leading to the hall they had just come from and the other the lounge. The hall itself was painted a muted cream color, and a few paintings hung on the wall. A small console table against the wall, in the middle of the hall, held a lamp and a vase of fake flowers. Grandma’s touch, probably. 

“All the rooms on this level have the same basic blueprint, with a bathroom and small walk-in closet. They might be flipped in orientation from each other, but they’re all the same size and basic layout. One of the walls of each room is glass, and they all open to the same balcony that we all share. It’s triangular, like the one downstairs. The rooms upstairs don’t have a balcony.” Scott didn’t mention the side balcony that cut into the rock and opened up into the Hanger. You could only get to that one through a secret door anyway.  
He opened the first door they came across, smiling at the small painting of a rocket that adorned it. “This is Alan’s room,” he explained. They had remodeled recently, and Penny hadn’t seen the end results yet. Alan had been wanting a more “grown-up” room, apparently.

“And where is Alan? And Gordon, for that matter?” Penny asked, as she stepped inside. She panned the camera around, taking in the room. It was modestly sized, which would probably come as a shock to most people. The room was painted in white, with one wall being firetruck red. The bed rested against that wall, pushed up against it, with an end table next to its head. Alan’s comforter was a dark red, his sheets black, and it was neatly made. The large red rug beneath her feet was a thick shag, and extremely plush—a compromise for Alan’s strange need to sleep on the floor. 

“At base,” Scott replied, picking up a book off the floor and placing it on the desk between the closet and bathroom doors. The desk was tidy but held a large conglomeration of books and papers. Schoolwork likely, along with a few other projects Alan was working on. There were posters of cars, planes and space above his desk and bed. And the ceiling was liberally covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. His yellow bean bag was sitting in the corner, covered by a purple and yellow throw blanket. 

“Right,” Penny said, in response to Scott’s answer. Honestly, the two boys were downstairs in the Hanger, repairing one of the Pods, but they were trying to make it seem as though the Birds weren’t actually kept on this island. How the brothers got to their Birds so quickly if they weren’t actually here was going to be left up to the imaginations of the viewers. “Theoretical physics?” she asked, glancing at one of the books on the desk.

Scott shrugged. “He’s working ahead.” They exited the room and moved on to the next door, this one adorned with a music note. “Virgil’s,” he said as they entered. 

Unlike Alan’s room, this one was painted in dark grey, with accents of blues and greens. Virgil’s bed was a large King sized monstrosity up against one wall, with a dark green comforter. It was a bit messy, as though Virgil had tried to sleep there but hadn’t managed. Two end tables were on either side, with matching lamps. A desk was on the wall opposite, between the bathroom and closet, much like Alan’s. However, this desk was clean of any papers or books, actually stark in its emptiness. There was a shelf above the desk that held an array of odds and ends, but not much else aside. There was an abstract painting above the bed, but not much else on the walls. A large green rug sat in front of the glass wall, with a rocking chair resting innocently on it. Penny didn’t ask; she never had before. 

“He likes to keep his work out of his room,” Scott said, and Penny nodded. That explained the stark cleanliness in contrast to his messy and cluttered studio.

They moved on. This door had a cartoon fish, from that old movie Finding Nemo. “Gordon’s,” Penny stated. It was painted bright blue, with yellow trim. An odd combination that was so Gordon that she couldn’t help but smile. There had been a time that she had expected him to live in a pigsty, mostly due to her having seen his Bird before seeing his room, but now she knew that he kept his room in a military order. His bed was sharp and clean, blues and greens for the comforter that he had told her reminded him of the ocean. His desk was orderly, with reports and paperwork and marine books all stacked nicely. Above his desk was the one point of chaos, as the wall was filled with pictures of anything that caught his fancy. Most were of his brothers. He didn’t have a rug on his floor, but there was a set of black bean bags up against the wall near the door. His bed, a decent sized queen, was up against the glass wall.

“The glass actually has privacy activations,” Scott explained. “So that it can become frosted on command."

"That’s probably a good idea, considering all of you share a balcony,” Penny responded.

“And Gordon sleeps naked,” Scott said with a wicked grin. He was greatly amused by the blush that Penny sported from that piece of information. He moved forward, motioning to the fish tank in the corner, in which five goldfish placidly swam. “Johnny got him the fish,” he said.

“Just goldfish?” Penny asked. All things considered, it was a good question. They could afford much more than just goldfish and Gordon was known to be a lover of all marine wildlife.

Scott shrugged. “Gordon just wanted goldfish. Nostalgia or something.”

They moved on, Scott shutting the door behind him. This door had a star painted on it. “John’s” he muttered, stepping inside a little sadly. Penny followed with a soft sigh. This room was stark in its sparseness. The room was painted a light gray, and the comforter and pillows matched. The rug was orange, but the desk was empty, and the shelves didn’t hold much more than a few books. The only piece of originality was that the walls and ceiling were covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. “John’s not home often,” Scott said. “So, he didn’t bother with putting much in here. Most of its up on Five.” It being his personal belongings.

They didn’t linger, shutting the door softly behind themselves as they moved to the last door in the corridor, right before the staircase that would take them either back down to the lounge or up to the next level. This door had a plane painted on it. “My room,” Scott said, gesturing Penny inside. 

The room reminded her of Thunderbird One, to be honest. Painted in silvers and greys, with accents of blue and red, she smiled at the military orderliness. Everything had a place, and everything was in said place. The layout was much the same as Virgil’s, his King bed against one wall with his desk on the opposite, between the closet and bathroom doors. A painting of his family, done by Virgil, was hanging above the desk, upon which were papers and files, stacked into neat piles. His bed was made sharply, the gray comforter matching the rug on the floor. He also had a rocking chair near the glass wall, a book lying in its seat. Again, Penny didn’t ask. She knew better, although the viewers would likely comment. 

They left his room after a moment, moving up the stairs. “So up here is Grandma, Kayo, Dad’s and the guest rooms. They’re bigger than ours, but they don’t have a balcony. I can show you the guest room, and the layout is the same for each of the others, aside from some variations of furniture placement.” The hall was the same as the one below, a light cream with a console table and lamp. Instead of the flowers was a stature of an elephant, a Malaysian keepsake of the Kyranos. 

Scott ushered into the guest room, which she knew well. In fact, her luggage, and Parker’s, was on the floor, near the bedroom door. She panned the camera, showing the two queen beds with the end table between them. There was a small desk with a TV on the wall above. A closet and bathroom, and a small sitting area with a loveseat and two armchairs. The artwork in the room was impersonal, just painting of the ocean and flowers. It was very much like a lovely hotel room if a bit simple for a group of multi-billionaires. She loved it, personally, as it was a large change from her usual elegant and expensive home. 

“So, is this the end of your castle?” Penny asked playfully.

Scott smiled. “This is it,” he said with a slight shrug. “I’m not exactly sure what everyone was expecting. We are farm-boys at heart.” He led her out of the room and down the stairs again. “Of course, there’s still the library in the Round House, but we took down all the walls there except in the bathroom and only left a little kitchenette, so it’s mostly just books and couches up there.”

“Hmm, perhaps we’ll see it later,” Penny said in an aside. It would make a great location for some follow up videos, to keep the YouTube channel going and the world satisfied. “What about the Hanger and Silos? Where are they?” she asked, knowing he wouldn’t be answering, of course.

He glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. “Elsewhere,” he said shortly, and she smiled. 

“Of course.”

“Are we done?” Scott asked, leading them off the stairs and back into the lounge. 

“We’re done,” Penny agreed. “There are more questions, of course, but we can do some Q and A sessions later.”

Scott sighed and then shrugged. “Fine. Bye or whatever,” he said, his focus already diverted as he wandered over to check on the still slumbering Virgil.

Penny turned the camera on herself, smiling softly. “You wanted to know where your heroes were living. And now you know. Goodbye,” she stated, and the screen went black.

~*~

The video blew up the internet. It had over a million views in less than an hour. And the comments…Penny decided then and there that the channel had to stay. The good press was even better than the rescues even seemed to garner, for whatever reason. Yes, they’d be doing more videos. It was time for the world to know exactly who the Tracys were and just what they were sacrificing to keep the world a little bit safer.

**TheQween** 12 hours ago  
Oh my gosh, what I wouldn’t give for these boys. Please, protect them.  
2.9k likes  
View all 989 replies

**GreatBallsofFIre** 10 hours ago  
That house is amazing. Not what I was imagining, like at all. But so cool. Who else thought they lived in a mansion though? I mean, this house is big, but it’s no mansion.  
2.1k likes  
View all 788 replies

**KissMeKate** 9 hours ago  
But like, did you see Virgil’s arms? Those biceps?! I swear, that boy could probably bench press all of his brothers. At the same time!  
1.1k likes  
View all 222 replies

**MaryMaryQuite** 8 hours ago  
They seem so modest. I mean, yeah they had like people who helped before, but now they do all their own chores and everything. Even my mom hires a maid once a week. And I don’t know how to do laundry at all.  
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**ZuchinniPie** 6 hours ago  
God, they look tired. How much downtime do they get?  
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**TristanBlues** 5 hours ago  
Got rescued by them once. By the dude in the yellow sub. Gordon. Owe them my life.  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a few liberties when deciding how the villa was laid out. I did, however, forget to mention that there should be a bathroom on both the lower floor with the kitchen, and on the main floor with the lounge. Pretend that Scott mentioned them somewhere in there.


	2. Questions and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny tracks down all the boys for some one-on-one question and answer sessions.

The next video actually showed Lady Penelope sitting in a bright orange, rather retro armchair, another matching one sitting empty next to it. They were backed by a curved wall of bookcases, beautifully built and filled to the brim with books and random objects from all over the world. There was a small table between the two chairs, a small stack of notecards sitting on top. She smiled at the camera, legs crossed delicately, her pink dress simple but elegant. “Hello world,” she said.

“I’m back at Tracy Island,” she continued, gracefully getting to her feet. “Today we’re in the Round House, waiting for one of the brothers to come up for an interview.” She stepped behind the camera, gently taking it off the tripod. “Since we didn’t see this house in the tour, let me show you around a little.” 

Penny panned the camera around, walking the entirety of the small building, showing that the space was shaped quite like a doughnut, with the outer wall being made of glass, and the inner one just completely covered built-in bookcases. There was a small kitchenette against the glass wall, near the front door and the tunnel door (the one that led to the tunnels that connected to the main house), and a small bathroom on the opposite end of the building. Couches, chairs and small tables filled the space between the books and the window. “It really is just a library,” she commented. When it had been a house for the Kyranos, there had been two bedrooms and a full kitchen as well as a small living room. She brought the camera to one of the windows, though, and pointed it at a structure jutting out of the cliff, above what looked to be a tree lined runway. 

“We did happen to forget one of the buildings in our tour last week,” she said. “The runway is obviously for the planes – not the Thunderbirds, darlings, but the jets – that the boys fly into the island on. There’s a small hanger built into the cliff there. Above it is the Cliff House. This house was supposed to be specifically for guests, but really the Tracys don’t get any guests aside from me and Parker, and we’re just fine sharing the room in the main house right now. So, the Cliff House hasn’t been completed yet, and likely won’t for a while since it’s the brothers that do all the construction here, and they’re undeniably busy right now.” The runway was of course actually for Thunderbird Two, although the jets did use it, and the Hanger was for the Bird as well as the jets. But the world didn’t need to know that.

She very carefully put the camera back on its tripod and stepped gently back into the frame. Smiling, she turned and gave a hug to the brother that had just shown up in the shot, reaching up to delicately peck him on the cheek. Virgil gave her a small smile, and they both sat down in the orange chairs. “Okay, dear, state your name for the camera."

Virgil rolled his eyes, stretching his legs out a bit as he crossed his arms across his chest. His wrist was still strapped up, a sprain that kept him from being able to participate in rescues for at least another week. “They know who I am,” he said, sounding just slightly amused.

Penny smiled back at him, having a feeling that he had no idea just how tempting he looked in that position. All American Beefcake, Moffy had called him once, and she just knew that the rest of the world would agree. “It’s the principle of the matter. Introduce yourself please.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “My name is Virgil Grissom Tracy, I’m twenty-three and primary pilot of Thunderbird Two.”

“Very good,” Penny said, still smiling. “So, for the first question, since you’ve already stated your age, what order do you fall in, in the Tracy lineup?”

“I’m the middle child,” Virgil said with a shrug. “The third.”

“And yet,” Penny drawled, “John has been heard to call you ‘big brother’ on occasion. Do explain, because there has been much confusion over this fact.”

Virgil grinned, and Penny could just imagine millions of girls sighing. “I’m bigger than he is. He’s older, but I’m bigger. Hence me being the ‘big brother’.” 

Penny shook her head, rolling her eyes. “That’s Tracy logic, that is,” she said, speaking to the camera. She turned back to Virgil. “You’re bigger than all your brothers. There are quite a few people out there that want to know if you can bench press your brothers. Preferably if you can bench press them all at the same time.”

Virgil laughed. “No,” he said shortly. “Well, actually, weight wise I could probably do it if I absolutely had to, but have you ever had to bench more than two people before?” He widened his eyes, staring into the camera gravely. “It gets wiggly, and uncomfortable, and everyone ends up in a dogpile with you at the bottom.”

“Sounds like you’ve tried it before,” Penny smiled, and Virgil just shrugged again. “But the combination of their weight, you can bench that?”

“Sure.”

Penny raised an eyebrow then, “Ready for the next question?” When Virgil merely shrugged yet again, she grinned. “Gals or guys?”

“Hmm?” Virgil’s eyebrows raised. Why on Earth did anyone want to know or care? Oh well. “Both? Maybe? I don’t know. I’ve been told I’m weird.”

Penny rolled her eyes. “You’re not weird, Virgil. You’re pan. And committed.”

“True.”

“Going to tell us who with?” she asked, smirking slightly. 

“No.” Virgil shot her a short look. “That is something the world doesn’t need to know.”

She gave the camera a look of her own. “That’s true. You’re entitled to your privacy after all.” She shuffled through the notecards sitting on the little table between them, looking for her next question. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Food?”

“Steak.”

“Animal?”

“I’m fond of cats. But not big cats.”

Penny looked at the camera again, smirking a little. “There’s a story there, about a rescue in Africa and a lion. It wasn’t funny at the time, but…” she gave a delicate, lady-like shrug. Virgil rolled his eyes, refusing to comment on that one. “Okay dear, what’s the best part of International Rescue?”

Virgil smiled softly, gaze wandering out the window. “When you get to reunite families. When your efforts pay off and everyone lives.”

“And the worst?” she asked softly.

His gaze remained out the window, and his uninjured hand clenched into a fist. “When they die in your arms and you can do nothing but sing them to sleep.”

There was a short pause before Penny continued. “What’s your favorite movie?” she asked, steering away from deeper subjects for the moment.

“I like a good rom-com to be honest,” he answered. “Don’t really have a favorite.”

“What level of schooling do you have?”

“Bachelors in mechanical engineering with a minor in art history,” Virgil said looking back at her. “I’m pursuing a Masters in the engineering via web classes. When I have time.” He paused. “I have a lot of medical training too, but don’t have a degree in that.”

“What’s your favorite kind of music?” Penny asked, and Virgil gave her a smile that warmed her heart. 

“I like all music,” he said honestly, shifting in his seat. His arms uncrossed and he relaxed just a little bit more. 

“Even rap?” She knew how much Scott detested rap.

“Meh,” Virgil raised his wrapped hand, waffling it back and forth. “Not my favorite, but there’s some good stuff in there.”

Penny nodded, glancing at her notecards and giving a small frown. “Okay, so I know I’ve never asked, but this was a widely asked question after the last video. You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, but both you and Scott have rocking chairs in your rooms. Why?”

Virgil blinked, falling still for a moment. “Mom used to rock Alan to sleep every night. Probably did the same with the rest of us, but I don’t remember. When she died, Dad was lost in his grief for a bit, so Scott took over rocking Alan to sleep. Kid had nightmares for years. And so, when Scott left for the Air Force and John for college, I was suddenly the oldest in the house, and I didn’t want to use Mom’s chair, so I got my own and took over rocking Alan. We just kinda kept the chairs after that.” He gave her a short look, running a hand through his hair. “Please don’t ask Scott that question.”

“I won’t,” she murmured. She shuffled her cards again. “Okay, for a few random questions. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?”

“Closed,” Virgil said slowly, eyebrows drawing together. “That’s a weird question.”

Penny shrugged. “I have a lot of weird questions from our viewers. I’m not going to ask you all of them, though. So, have you ever peed in the woods?”

Virgil barked a laugh. “Yes.” He snickered at her incredulous look. “Honey, when you’re on a rescue and don’t have time to find a toilet, you do what you have to.”

“Fine. Heathen.” A short pause. “Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of bees?”

Virgil shuddered. “A bear. I figure I’d actually have a chance with that one. Bugs are just…ick.”

Penny gave him a mocking look. “Oh? Is big bad Virgil afraid of a little bug?”

He shot her a look right back, tilting his head and rolling his eyes. “Big bad Virgil deals with enough bugs during rescues that he doesn’t want to have to deal with them any other time. That’s what Scott is for.”

She laughed and he gave a sigh. “Okay, then. You don’t like bugs. But what’s your biggest fear?”

“Snow,” he answered promptly. “I hate it.” She waved a hand slightly and he huffed. “I have memories of being trapped in the snow for hours. Days, actually, before they found us. I can do snow rescues just fine, have done many, in fact, but it’s always going to be one of my worst fears.”

She nodded. She’d forgotten about that. There was a reason they had moved to a tropical island, after all. “Okay. So, where’s your favorite place on Earth? Other than home.”

He blinked and fell silent for a long moment, obviously thinking about that answer. And then he huffed out a laugh. “This is ironic, considering my last answer, but Antarctica.” At her incredulous look he shrugged, explaining, “It’s so pretty. Like a giant birthday cake.”

Penny turned her baffled look to the camera again. “Tracy logic, ladies and gentlemen. That’s all this is.”

There was a sudden alarm that pierced through the house and Virgil startled, jumping to his feet. “Well, that’s my cue,” he said, heading quickly for the door, shooting her an informal salute. “IR is calling.”

He was gone before Penny could say anything else and she gave a sigh. “I thought he was still on medical leave following that land slide,” she muttered to herself. She then looked at the camera. “Well, one down. Four to go.”

~*~

They were in the loft above the lounge, seated in the white chairs next to the bookcase. Penny was dressed in a different outfit, a pink pantsuit with baby blue accents. Alan was seated next to her, leg jiggling silently, hands clasped in his lap. “Relax, darling,” Penny murmured. “I’m just asking you a few questions. Now introduce yourself, please.”

Alan rolled his big blue eyes. “I’m Alan Shepherd Tracy. I’m sixteen and primary pilot of Thunderbird Three.” Teenage girls everywhere were swooning, Penny was sure.

“And where you do fall in the Tracy lineup?” Penny asked, shuffling her notecards. 

“I’m the youngest,” Alan answered, his voice a little bland, as though he were bored. 

She shot him a small look before glancing to the camera. “Okay, Alan dear, the world really, really wants to know how you became an astronaut at the age of sixteen.”

“Fourteen,” Alan responded. “I started piloting Three at fourteen.” He frowned darkly, looking down at his hands in his lap. “It wasn’t really my choice, to be honest. Don’t get me wrong, I love it! And Three was always supposed to be mine, from the very get-go. But Dad had the rule that I wasn’t supposed to do any solitary piloting until after I turned 18.”

“So, what changed?” Penny prompted, also frowning. She knew the answer, of course, and she hated it.

Alan shrugged. “Dad disappeared. And the Hood outed us to the world and suddenly Three didn’t have a primary pilot, ‘cause that had been Dad’s job. And I had the most training and Scott and John had already pulled me out of school due to the media and stuff, so I just sort of stepped up to the plate.” He gave a sigh. “John’s fully capable of piloting Three, but we _need_ him on Five. Scott doesn’t really do well in space usually, and Virgil and Gordon hate space with a passion although they’re perfectly willing to copilot if needed. So really, I was the logical choice and Three was supposed to be mine anyway.”

“And now you’re the youngest astronaut in the world,” Penny said, and Alan shrugged again. “You’re also the youngest race car champion. How did that happen?”

Alan laughed, running a hand down his face. “That was an accident. I was signed up for the teens’ rally, but somehow ended up in the adult race. And since I never actually left my car, I didn’t know the difference and we think that the officials thought that I was actually one of my brothers, you know, the adult ones. So, I raced, and I won and then we all figured out the mistake. And the judges were impressed enough that they let me keep the title.” He grimaced a little. “Scott won’t let me race in the adult circuits again though until after I’m eighteen.”

Penny smiled slightly at his petulant voice. “He lets you fly a rocket but not race a car,” she stated, her sarcasm slight, but there all the same.

“Exactly!” Alan said, throwing an arm up. “You get it!” 

Penny laughed. “Favorite color?” she asked.

“Red.”

“Food?”

“Gummy bears.”

“Are those really considered food?” At his nod, she shook her head and continued. “Animal?”

“Eagles. The Golden ones. They’re gorgeous.”

“Movie?”

“Jurassic Park. The first one. From a long time ago.” There was a slight commotion down in the lounge as Gordon ran through, followed shortly by a fuming Virgil. Both Penny and Alan paused to watch as the two ran past the fireplace and presumably down the hall. 

“Okay then,” Penny stated, smiling in amusement. The camera hadn’t caught any of that, obviously, but the sounds could still be heard. “What’s your favorite place you’ve visited on Earth?” she had to clarify for him, as she knew that his favorite place had actually been Haley’s comet. 

Alan frowned. “Most of the places I’ve visited have been during the middle of a crisis, so they don’t lend themselves to wanting a repeat but…” he paused, glancing at her. “There’s this little village in Africa, where they don’t have a lot of technology.” He shook his head. “Most places, it seems like we show up and people are just standing there with their phones and cameras out, filming as other people are dying and it’s just so frustrating you know?”

“I can imagine,” Penny murmured. Alan’s face was displaying his frustration; he hadn’t learned to keep a poker face for the media yet, as his family had strived their hardest to keep him out of it all his life. 

“I mean, really. I’m sixteen and I’m running into crumbling buildings to pull people out, and, and digging people out of mudslides and stuff, but everyone else is just standing there watching. What makes them less qualified then me?” He shook his head. “But this little village. We got there, to help out with a massive flash flooding event, and they were all banding together to help each other out. We were hardly needed at all. It was refreshing.”

“And that’s made it your favorite place?” Penny asked, actually a little amazed. She had expected an answer a little more worldly from the teen, to be honest. But Alan had hidden depths, even she knew that.

He shrugged. “Yeah. That and the people. I’ve gone back to visit a few times. Marrisa taught me how to knit, actually.”

Penny waggled her eyebrows. “Ohh, Marrisa, huh?” she asked, with a slight laugh in her voice.

“She’s seven, Lady P,” Alan droned, rolling his eyes. 

Penny laughed delightedly. “So, Alan. Gals or guys?”

“Gals, I guess,” he said. “I’m only sixteen though and there’s not a lot of options on the island so who really knows.”

She smiled at him. “You’ll meet someone someday, I’m sure.” 

“Right.” He rolled his eyes again. Such a teenager. 

She continued, looking at her notecards and huffing a little laugh. “Have you ever stolen a street sign?”

“Don’t tell Scott.”

Her eyes widened and her head shot up to look at him incredulously. “You have?!”

Alan shrugged. “Sort of, I guess? There was a tornado in Texas and the signs were all over the place. So, I took one because I thought it had a funny name.”

“What was the name?” Penny asked, clearly having never heard this story before.

“This Road Street.”

“You’re kidding.” Really? That was a name of a street? 

“Nope. Apparently, there was also a “That Road Lane” and “The Other Road Street”. It would have been a confusing town to live in, to be honest.”

Penny stared at him for a long moment. “Wow.” She cleared her throat. “Okay. Can you change the oil in your car?”

Alan gave her a long look. “I built my car,” he pointed out. “And I can change the oil in a rocket ship. You know, if the rocket needed oil. So…yes.”

“True,” Penny conceded. She shuffled through her cards, clearly looking for another question, when there was a sudden alarm, the same one that had gone off during Virgil’s interview, and Alan shot to his feet. She gave a sigh and the camera went dark.

~*~

They were in the kitchen, Gordon standing at the stove stirring something in a pot. Penny was seated at the island bar, the camera positioned to catch both of them. Her outfit was a baby blue suit, quite like the one that she had worn with Alan, but a solitary color this time. He glanced back at her, giving her a warm smile, which she returned. “My name’s Gordon Cooper Tracy, I’m twenty-one and I’m the primary pilot of Thunderbird Four,” he said without prompting. He turned back to the pot. “And I’m the fourth in the lineup.” Clearly, he had watched the previous two interviews, or at least had known what to expect from them.

“Thank you, darling,” Penny murmured, her notecards spread out in front of her. “Gals or guys?” she asked, knowing that most of the world really did want to know that about each other the brothers. 

“Gals,” he answered promptly. “And I’m committed. The world doesn’t need to know with who.”

She smiled, focusing on her cards. “Right. Favorite color?”

“Yellow.”

“Food?”

“Hamburgers. But I like me a celery crunch bar for a snack.”

“Animal?”

“Fish. All kinds. Marine wildlife in general.”

“Book?”

“Hmm…” He paused, thinking this one through. He wasn’t one that sat down to read all that often. But then, months of bedrest following the Accident (capital A required) had had him reading quite a few books. “The Pern series by Anne McCaffery, or The Iliad by Homer.”

“No two books could be more different, Gordon,” Penny pointed out. He merely shrugged, focusing on the dinner he was cooking, and she looked back at her cards. “Everyone wants to know how long it took for your back to heal completely.”

“It hasn’t,” Gordon answered, tensing just slightly. She blinked at him, willing him to explain without saying anything. He looked back at her, just barely glancing at the camera. “It hasn’t healed completely, and probably never will. I have good days, better days and absolutely awful days, but the pain is pretty much my constant companion now.” 

“The doctors said you’d never walk again,” Penny pointed out, gesturing to his clearly standing and walking form. 

He shrugged. “The doctors were wrong. But it took me three months to swim again, six to walk and nine to win that Olympic gold. It was a lot of work to get to where I am today, and it still takes work to keep me here.”

“And yet you very willingly go out and rescue others, most definitely putting yourself at risk to do so,” she said. 

He gave her a long, searching look. “I joined WASP at sixteen, with full intention to get the training I needed to be able to pilot Thunderbird Four. The Birds weren’t built yet at that point, but we were planning. The Accident happened when I was seventeen, and I used the Olympics as a way to get my butt out of bed and get back to working order. Everything has been so that I could be part of International Rescue. And someone has to be willing to help others, even if that someone is me.”

“You boys,” Penny breathed, giving a large sigh. “Okay, on with the questions. What do you dip your chicken nuggets in?”

“Ranch dressing,” he answered with a snicker. 

“Where do you do most of your shopping?”

He blinked at her, motioning with his ladle to the island in general. “Online, to be picked up at a PO Box in Auckland. Although we do bulk shopping on the mainland every six months. Virgil’s the one that did it with Grandma last time.”

“Got interrupted part way through, too, right?” Penny asked, getting a nod in reply. “Okay, what’s your biggest fear?” she asked softly. This was one topic they hadn’t broached yet, and she was curious, but respectful.

“Water,” Gordon smiled. He caught her expression and nodded. “I know. It’s a shock, considering who I am. I spend more time in the water than I do on land usually, but yeah I have a rather healthy fear of it.” He shrugged, turning when a timer beeped. He bent to pull the garlic bread from the oven, placing it on the stovetop next to the pot of soup. “The water nearly killed me. More than once, actually, now with IR. But I love it, and I wasn’t going to let my fear destroy that part of me.” He gave her a warm look. “Every time I step into the water these days, no matter if it’s the pool, the ocean, or some flood somewhere around the world, I have to fight past an almost instinctual fear. And then I just let go.” His look was strong, telling and very, very warm. “I knocked on Death’s door and waved her goodbye. I’m not going to let a little fear control any aspect of my life.”

She met him gaze for gaze for a long, silent moment, before breaking away and looking down at her notecards, clearing her throat. “I’m assuming dinner’s ready?” she asked, and if her voice was a little rough, he wasn’t going to call her on it. 

“Yeah,” he answered, moving to where they kept the old bell in the corner, to ring for dinner. They’d brought it with them from the ranch, and it was useful in a house like this. “We can answer more questions later, if you want.”

“Right, of course,” Penny nodded, her face devoid of any emotion as she straightened. “I still need to pin down Scott and John, though.”

Gordon gave a full, belly laugh. “Good luck.”

~*~

She was sitting on a couch in the sunken part of the lounge, John floating as a hologram in front of her. “John, darling, you are terribly hard to pin down,” she groused, absently flicking her hair from her face. She was wearing a darling little white and pink number today, if she could say so herself. 

“Mmm-hmm,” he agreed, clearly working and only giving her half his focus. She had expected this; she had gone to school with the man at Oxford and very clearly knew his mannerisms. Most best friends did, after all.

“Introduce yourself, darling,” she said, flapping a hand at him. 

“John Glenn Tracy, twenty-five years old and primary pilot of Thunderbird Five.” 

“Are you really considered a pilot?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at her. “Is that what they call those that live on a space station for three-fourths of the year?”

He glanced at her, eyebrow raised. “I suppose.” Rolling his eyes, his hologram turned slightly to address something that they couldn’t see. “And, before you ask, I’m the second oldest. Even though I do call Virgil my big brother sometimes.”

“Because he’s bigger,” Penny said, smiling.

“Because he’s bigger,” he echoed with a decisive nod. 

She looked straight into the camera, shrugging and mouthing “Tracy logic”. John ignored her. “Okay, John dear. Gals or guys?” Again with this question, because it was, frankly, the most asked question out of all of them.

“Neither,” John replied, giving her a quirky smile. “I’m not interested.”

“He’s asexual,” Penny explained for the viewers with a smile. It had made for some interesting times in college and among his family for the longest time before they all figured it out. They’d been attached at the hip for the longest time, the two of them. He really was a doll, her John. “Now, John, how many languages do you speak?”

“Fluently? Eighteen,” John answered, his head turning and eyes narrowing to look at something to the side of him. “I’m conversational in six others.” 

Penny sighed. “Overachievers, all of them,” she muttered to herself. “Okay then. Favorite animal?”

“Cats.”

“Color?”

“Orange.”

“Food?”

“Bagels. Blueberry.”

“Movie?”

“I don’t watch many movies,” he responded. He looked at her and gave a shrug. “If I watch a movie it has to be animated and have very little to do with reality or I can’t focus on it.”

She smiled. “Your favorite, or at least it was at Oxford, was Inside Out from Disney/Pixar.” He shrugged again and she gave a nod. “Wall-E was a close second.” 

“They were cute,” he acquiesced. His hologram did a flip as he clearly made a maneuver to the other side of the room he was in. It was interesting, holding an interview with a hologram. 

“What’s your favorite memory?” she asked. 

He was silent for a moment and then sighed softly. “When I was ten, we all went camping. Alan was just a tiny baby, but I remember lying in a field watching the stars with my brothers and parents. Dad was pointing out the constellations and telling their stories, and I decided right then that I was going to be an astronaut when I grew up.”

“Well, you certainly succeeded,” Penny said, feeling a little proud of this boy. She wasn’t going to ask what his worst memory was, despite it being a question many had asked. “What’s your level of education?”

“I have a PhD in astrophysics,” he answered. “And a Masters in Linguistics.” He glanced at her. “Are we counting honorary degrees? Because I can’t remember all of those.”

Penny laughed, looking to the camera. “John is a smart one,” she said, her face open and delighted. “He graduated high school at fourteen, got his bachelors through home study and then went on to graduate school. We met at Oxford.” She whispered, “A lady never reveals her age, but I’m older than John.”

“And younger than Scott so…” John muttered, rolling his eyes. Honestly, the girl was only a year older than him. They had met in the language department at Oxford while she was getting her bachelors and he his Masters. He adored her though and had sort of been the driving force in folding her into the family. That she and Gordon seemed to have a thing now just made it all the better.

“On with the questions, darling,” she replied haughtily. “Do you sing?”

“No,” he answered. “And before you ask, my favorite kind of music is actually classical. Preferably whatever I can get Virgil to play on the piano.”

“How do you like your coffee?” she asked, smirking a little. John abhorred coffee, much rather preferring tea. 

“I like my coffee like I like my people,” he responded, smirking back at her.

Her brow furrowed. “You don’t drink coffee.”

“Exactly.” 

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “John’s a little anti-social,” she explained to the camera. “It’s a wonder he’s the voice for International Rescue. But that’s probably because he’s a complete klutz if there’s gravity involved.”

John gave a shrug, not bothering to counter that statement. It was true after all. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but he held up a hand, turning to the side. “International Rescue, please state your emergency.” 

She couldn’t hear the response, but his face tightened, and he was suddenly moving. An alarm blared and the camera went black.

~*~

They were seated in the Round House again. This time occupying a dark green couch. Penny had her note cards in hand, and she was wearing a white pantsuit. It was flattering, her hair was done up in an elaborate bun, and she looked perfectly put together. Scott, on the other hand, looked exhausted, sprawled in his chair. He wasn’t wearing his usual button down and slacks, instead having on a t-shirt and jeans. One arm was mottled with bruises, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Scott darling,” Penny murmured. “You ready for your interview? We can always put this off until after you’ve slept some.”

“I’m good,” Scott mumbled. “If we don’t do this now, we may never get a chance. And you’re very insistent when you get an idea in your head.” The look he gave her was just shy of annoyed. 

“Introductions, dear,” Penny responded.

“Scott Carpenter Tracy. Twenty-seven. I’m the oldest, and I’m the primary pilot of Thunderbird One.” 

“Good, good,” Penny said. She was hoping that an alarm wouldn’t go off and interrupt this interview. The boys needed some rest and it was already dark outside the wall of windows. “Okay, so, guys or gals?” she asked, nearly rolling her eyes at the question.

“Gals,” Scott yawned. “And committed. And no, I’m not saying with who.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” she replied. “Favorite food?”

“Watermelon.”

“Color?”

“Blue.”

“Animal?”

“Wolf.”

“Really?” She had expected a bird of some sort. Like an eagle. Scott seemed like an eagle sort of man.

“Really.” 

“Okay, then.” Clearly, Scott wasn’t in the mood to elaborate. He really was exhausted, the poor man. “What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever bought?” she asked. He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. “For yourself. Not IR. Because I know those Birds probably cost a lot.”

He shrugged. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted. “Okay, for myself?” There was a long moment while he thought this through. “When I was sixteen, I bought a classic sports car. It needed a bit of work, but I do believe that’s the most money I’ve ever spent on a single object that was for myself.”

“And for your brothers?” she asked, knowing that he’d spent quite a bit on them over the years.

He twitched a little. “I’ve paid their hospital bills,” he pointed out. And then he rolled his eyes. “Okay, so I don’t know the answer to that exactly. I’ve bought a lot over my life.”

“Are you aware that you have grey hairs?” Penny asked, and she quickly held up her hands at his glare. “It as a question asked by quite a few of your fans. You’re not quite thirty yet, you know.”

“I’m aware,” he ground out. “You try being in my position. CEO of an international multi-billion-dollar corporation, and head of International Rescue. Not to mention running herd on my brothers. You’d have gray hairs too.”

“Darling, I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten a few grey hairs just from witnessing some of what you boys get up to during your rescues,” Penny responded, absently shuffling her note cards. “What level of education do you have?”

“Bachelors in engineering,” he replied. “I got it through the Air Force.” Scott gave a short shrug, yawning again. “I joined up right after high school. Dad was always pushing us to do our best, but he never made college a requirement for it. Which is why Gordon never bothered going, because he didn’t feel he needed to.”

“That’s actually a pretty good point,” Penny said, pointing at him. “College isn’t the end-all of self-improvement. And some people just aren’t made for the classroom setting.”  
“Exactly,” Scott mumbled, waving a hand. “Next question?” he asked, slumping just a little more into his chair. 

“I have the oddest urge to tell you to sit up,” Penny said, glancing at her notecards. She ignored the glare Scott shot her way. “Okay then. Apart from romantically, when was the last time you told someone you loved them?”

He gazed at her, blinking. “About half an hour ago,” he answered honestly. “To Alan, in the kitchen.”

She smiled at him. “You’re so sweet.”

“He’s my baby brother,” he pointed out, not entirely sure why she was reacting this way. “Why wouldn’t I tell him I love him?”

“You realize that most grown men don’t admit to loving their siblings, right? They don’t generally say they love anyone outside of a romantic sense,” Penny explained, glancing over at him. 

“I practically raised the kid,” Scott said in retaliation. “I am raising him. I’m going to let him know I love him. And my other brothers too. Even when I want to throw them in the pool.”

Penny gave a nod, her smile warm and her eyes bright. “Right. Have you ever forgotten your birthday?”

“My own?” he asked. “All the time. Too busy.”

“Have you ever forgotten your brothers’?” she asked.

“No,” he said. And then he winced. “But last year we all pretended to forget Virgil’s so that we could surprise him when he got back from what was supposed to be a simple rescue. Only it wasn’t simple and he didn’t get back until about three in the morning and we’d all fallen asleep by then so…it wasn’t our best moment.”

“I’m sure he forgave you,” she said softly. She remembered that. It probably hadn’t helped that they had eaten all the cake. Granted, Grandma had cooked all the other food, so the cake had pretty much been the only edible thing at the time. 

Scott nodded. “He did. But we don’t go for surprises like that anymore.” 

“What’s the best thing about rescues?” she asked, her gaze momentarily distracted by a shooting star outside the window.

“Saving lives,” Scott said simply. “It’s the whole reason we do what we do.”

“And the worst?” she asked, dreading the answer.

He was silent for a long moment, hands flexing absently. “The absolute terror that comes from sending your siblings out into dangerous situations and not knowing if all of them are going to be coming back in one piece. Or at all.” 

The silence engulfed them after that. Penny didn’t exactly have a question that could kill that mood. She gave a sigh, but it didn’t matter because an alarm went off right at that moment. Scott groaned, levering himself to his feet and dragging a hand down his face. “Duty calls,” he murmured. “Get some sleep, Penny.”

And the screen went black.

**LadyLucky** 15 hours ago  
OMG Tug at my heartstrings. These guys do everything they can for everyone and don’t ask for anything and they don’t even get to sleep! What the heck!  
92.3k likes  
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**RichieTimesThree** 15 hours ago  
Gee Alan. Way to make a guy feel guilty for having a phone. I mean, I’ve never been in a situation where I’d just be filming someone dying but still…  
87k likes  
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**1239487309KTS** 14 hours ago  
They’re so normal. I mean, yeah, they’re like heroes and all. But they’re rich, you know? And so normal.  
56.8k likes  
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**HahaMF** 13 hours ago  
“I knocked on Death’s door and waved her goodbye.” Holy Heck! I need that on a t-shirt!  
86.6k likes  
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**DerpyDerps124322** 13 hours ago  
I’m sixteen and I can’t even figure out how to work a stove and Alan built his own car?! And flies a freaking rocket!? Are we sure these guys are human?  
78k likes  
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**HelenHomes23** 12 hours ago  
I want to be Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward when I grow up.  
77.3k likes  
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**YouGonnaTell** 12 hours ago  
If I had billions of dollars, I gotta be honest. I wouldn’t be spending it on rockets and stuff to save other people. And don’t lie. You wouldn’t either.  
65.3k likes  
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**StevenSings** 11 hours ago  
Anyone else notice that their favorite colors match their Thunderbirds and their sash-thingies?  
54k likes  
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**HeckIllBeMe** 10 hours ago  
Wait wait wait. Did Scott Freaking Tracy basically just say that college isn’t the only way to show success or intelligence?! Yes!! Take that parents! Trade school here I come!  
52.2k likes  
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**AceBaby234** 10 hours ago  
Well look at that, mainstream media, even all the Tracy brothers aren’t straight. Whatcha gonna say now?  
49.3k likes  
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**SpiderpigDoes** 9 hours ago  
I’m tired just watching these videos, geez. But I can’t wait until the next one.  
32.8k likes  
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**MissHK345** 9 hours ago  
They should totally do a Day In The Life. I mean, could you imagine what that would be like with the freaking Thunderbirds?!  
31k likes  
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**HappyTimesWillCome988** 8 hours ago  
They’re so open about their fears and what they can’t stand about rescues and seeing people die and holy **** I’m crying  
25k likes  
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**AlexSaysHi23** 7 hours ago  
Crap. Three of the five are in committed relationships. One isn’t interested. And the other one is jailbait. Dang. We got no chance guys.  
11.4k likes  
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**HoopsDriver87342** 6 hours ago  
Someone start a GoFundMe for these guys. I mean, I know they billionaires, but therapy must cost a **** ton for these dudes.  
8.3k likes  
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Lady Penelope sighed, smiling to herself as she ran through the comments on the last video. It hadn’t even been up for a day yet and had millions of views. She sat back, absently tapping her fingers on the tablet. What to do for the next video?

She had an idea, but would have to run it past the brothers. They’d put up with her so far, although they hadn’t bothered to watch the videos or read the comments, but this next idea was a little more invasive in terms of privacy.  
Well, it wouldn’t hurt to at least run it by them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I had in mind for that ending scene is the song Lullaby by Daniel Elder. It's a beautiful choral piece, and I'm not sure if it could ever work as a solo, but that's what was in my mind as I wrote that section.


	3. A Week In The Lounge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in the lounge over the course of a week. Carefully edited of course. Because, ya know, Thunderbirds.

The video started with Lady Penelope staring up at the camera, hands on hips and with a smile on her face. “Hello world,” she said softly. It was clear that the camera was mounted on a wall in the lounge, above the six portraits near the sunken sitting area. “This video is a little different from the others. You see, a lot of you were asking for a “Day In The Life” video, and frankly that’s just not feasible. There is a lot that goes on in a day that is simply classified or not suited for public viewing. I did, however, get them to agree to have a camera mounted in the lounge for the next week. This is the video of what happened here, in the lounge of the Thunderbirds, for the period of seven days.

Lady Penelope walked off and the screen faded to black before coming back up with the same view. There was no sound, aside from some softly playing piano music, and the speed of the video had obviously been increased by a lot. People sped by, walking, sometimes running. Scott was seen at the desk working at all hours it seemed, his sped-up form almost always ending up there. John floated as a hologram above the table at times, talking to the others. Grandma and Brains were often seen talking, walking, laughing with each other and the brothers. 

Lady Penelope had taken care to edit out anything to do with the launching of the Birds, although she left hologram discussions on display, since the words couldn’t be heard anyway and with the speed the video was at, she wasn’t too concerned about people lip reading. At one point, Scott wandered by with Alan on his back, the younger sound asleep. Gordon raced by with Virgil chasing him through the lounge. John appeared in person halfway through the week, having taken some time off Five to be with his family. It was a fascinating, if fast-paced look into the lives of the Thunderbirds. 

And then there were the scenes that Lady Penelope deliberately left at normal speed. They still didn’t have any sound, aside from the piano music, but the impact they made was rather large with the viewers.

Scott was seated at the desk, working on a tablet. Virgil came into view with a clipboard, quite diligently studying something on it with a frown. He dropped it on the desk with a thump, gaining his brother’s attention. Clearly a discussion of some sort was taking place, Virgil showing bemused confusion and Scott utter bafflement. And then they both broke out into laughter, shaking their heads. 

In another, John was seated sideways on a couch, his upper body twisted so he could rest his folded arms on the floor behind him, chin planted firmly upon them. He was watching as Alan stood there, ranting about something. The boy’s arms were flailing, his face was a mix of angry and terrified, and John just sat and listened. Scott, seated at the desk, seemed to ignore all of this, aside from glancing up from time to time. Alan finished his diatribe, arms falling to his sides as he slumped and John levered himself to his feet. 

Kayo stepped out from around the corner, her features slightly blurred. The world knew who she was, but they also knew that Kayo wasn’t her real name and that her job was secret. The Thunderbirds didn’t want her to be the focus of the media, so they did what they had to in order to preserve her privacy.

John and Kayo stood in front of Alan and then, very deliberately, started to dance. They were, clearly, showing the boy how it was done, taking care to demonstrate where hands should be placed, and which steps should be taken. John stepped aside after a moment, and Kayo started dancing, slowly, with a very red Alan. And at the desk, Scott just smiled as he watched.

Another part showed Virgil, sketching on the couch, twisted much as John had been to rest his sketchbook on the floor behind him. Alan was stretched out on the ground, books and paper in front of him as he chewed on his pencil. Virgil looked up at a question from the boy and stretched forward to snag the paper from Alan, tugging it towards himself. He glanced it over and then pointed out a problem, talking it through with Alan before handing him the paper back. Alan attacked it with his eraser and the video moved on.

Gordon on the phone, a soft smile on his face as he spoke to someone. He leaned against the piano, throwing a grin at Virgil, who was playing absently. They looked at peace and content. Alan wandered in and dropped unceremoniously onto the ground at Gordon’s feet, giving a yawn and leaning against his older brother. Gordon just let him, still speaking on the phone. The moment was interrupted by what the viewers could assume was an alarm, as they all, at once, looked towards the holo-table and got to their feet.

The next live-speed had Scott slumped in a chair, head tilted back, arm over his face. Gordon was bouncing in excitement behind him, and Scott slowing pointed at him and very clearly said “No”. Gordon wasn’t deterred though and just kept speaking, still bouncing. Virgil and Alan came into view, the former stopping suddenly only to have the latter run into his back. 

Gordon’s attention diverted to his two other brothers and the eldest seemed to melt into the couch. Alan peeked out from behind Virgil only to shake his head empathically and slide away. Virgil, left alone with the manically bouncing blonde in front of him looked to his oldest brother and asked a question, only to have Scott repeat the motion of pointing and answering with a “No.” Not entirely sure what was going on, Virgil slowly reached out a hand, placed it on top of Gordon’s head and gently pressed down. Gordon was forced to stop bouncing with a pout. 

The video sped up again, only to slow down to show both Virgil and Scott standing in the middle of the room. They looked angry, yelling and gesturing wildly. Virgil was, oddly, still in uniform. It was the first and only time that any of the brothers had been in uniform in the lounge this week. The blue and green was smeared with mud and dust and blood that wasn’t his own. He threw his arm out, yelling something and Scott moved.

The older brother caught Virgil’s wrist and reeled him forward, hooking his other hand behind Virgil’s neck and gently resting their foreheads together. He spoke softly, just holding Virgil still, and the larger man just seemed to crumble against his big brother, his face scrunching with despair.

Another video had all five of the brothers piled together on one couch, the younger three sound asleep, a tangle of limbs with Virgil on the bottom. John and Scott were softly speaking to each other, leaning against their brothers, absently calming any twitching or frowning. The light was dim, a single lamp lit on the desk. They looked exhausted, but content. 

The screen faded to black, but the video wasn’t over. The music faded away as well, and voices took their place. On the screen were two single lines of white text. 

“What is the best thing about rescues?”  
“Saving lives. It’s why we do what we do.”

The voices were clearly the brothers, with Grandma and Brains sometimes mixed in. They were recordings from rescues, just little snippets of the whole picture. 

“Okay, you’re going to need to go fifteen feet further and take a right,” John said.  
“FAB,” Virgil replied. “Any aftershocks on the way?”  
“Not as of yet,” John answered. “But you may want to hurry. The building doesn’t look stable.”  
“Gotta get the kids first, Johnny.”

“Brains? If I try to take the reactor out of the building, what would happen?” Scott muttered, his voice strained.  
“It will, uh, explode.”  
“…right. Well, plan C it is then.”

“International Rescue. Is everyone ready to go?” Alan asked, knocking against something metal.  
“You’re just a kid!” An unknown voice.  
“And you’re the ones that called for help. Come on. We gotta get to Three.”

“Come on, come on, come on,” Gordon was muttering in between large, deep breaths. “Breathe dammit.”  
“Charging, and…Clear!” Virgil’s voice accompanied by a strange thumping sound. A pause, a gasp and coughing.  
“Yes!” Gordon again, clearly happy.   
“Okay,” Virgil sighed. “Let’s get him on board Two and get him to a hospital. Good job, Gords.”

Gordon was singing.  
“If you don’t shut up, Fish-Face, I might just leave you behind,” Virgil, sounding stressed and annoyed.  
“Someone woke up grumpy,” Gordon replied flippantly.  
“Someone never got to sleep, Squid,” Virgil said. There was a pause. “Ah, shit! The grapple’s slipping! Get out of there!”   
Silence.  
“Okay, okay. We’re good, Virge. I got ‘em. We’re out.”  
A relieved sigh. “FAB. Bring ‘em in.”

“Scott, you may want to hurry this up,” a voice that just had to be Grandma’s. The world wasn’t quite as familiar with Sally Tracy as they were the brothers, though.  
“Trying, Grandma,” Scott replied. “Kinda difficult though.”  
“I’m aware, Scooter,” Grandma said. “But Gordon and Alan are currently retrieving a broken down space ship, and Virgil just got called out to an avalanche.”  
Scott grunted. “I hate avalanches.”  
“We all do, dear.”

“How you holding up, Mozart?” Scott asked.  
“Peachy keen, Scooter,” Virgil grunted. “Please hurry.”   
“Working on it, kiddo. Just hang on a minute longer. Just three more civilians to go.”  
“FAB.”

“Yes! And that’s what I’m talking about!” Alan crowed.  
“Good job, Sprout,” Scott’s reply sounded impressed, if a little frazzled. “Virge? You good?”  
“Alan’s got good aim,” Virgil said.  
“Well, all those video games have to be good for something,” John said, and Alan squawked in the background.

“Hey Space-Case!” That was Gordon, laughing into the com.  
“Don’t call me Space-Case,” John sighed. “What?”  
“Is that downed sub responding to you? I can’t get them on the coms.”  
“I’ll try again.”

The two lines of text faded off the screen, to be replaced by two others.

“And the worst?”  
“When they die in your arms and you can do nothing but sing them to sleep.”

There was a softly singing baritone voice, crooning out a gentle lullaby. It was the same song that had been playing as piano music earlier, and the words were soft and calming, if not a little sad. The coms were silent aside from the singing, until that too died away.

“I’m sorry, Virgil,” John whispered.

A deep sigh. “Me too.”


	4. The Baking Vid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which Alan and Virgil get their baking on.

The camera was set up in the kitchen, much as it had been for Gordon’s interview in the second video. Virgil and Alan were on screen, the former leaning against the counter on his elbows, the latter bouncing a bit to the side of him. They were dressed casually, with Virgil just in a green t-shirt and jeans, and Alan wearing a Star Trek long-sleeved tee and board shorts. “Hello world,” Virgil said with a small smile, waggling his fingers at the camera.

“Hi!” Alan exclaimed, waving. “We’re baking today!”

“Mm-hmm,” Virgil nodded, heaving himself upright. “Scott’s had a bit of a bad week so we’re making his favorite cookies for when he gets home from that business meeting in New York.”

“You guys never make my favorite cookies when I have a bad week,” John’s voice said over the com and Virgil and Alan shared a look. They were slightly startled, as they hadn’t expected to hear John, but honestly, they were more amused than anything.

“Johnny, if you come home this weekend, I’ll make your favorite apple pie and even get Scott to bring home ice cream,” Virgil said, aiming it towards the com that was embedded in the kitchen wall.

“You’re my favorite,” John replied, sounding rather pleased.

Alan scoffed. “He’s everyone’s favorite.” John merely laughed and the com clicked off. “Okay. So now that big brother is no longer spying, we can get to baking!”

“Alan,” Virgil groaned with an expressive eye roll. “You should know better.” He gave a slight pause before waving a hand. “John never stops spying.”

Alan laughed and then spun towards the camera. “Right. Right. Well, we’re making molasses cookies, because Scott likes them for some reason. Personally, I think they’re kinda gross, but whatever.”

“Personally, I think he likes them because you and Gordon don’t and therefore they don’t all disappear before he can eat some,” Virgil said, turning to the fridge. Alan merely shrugged, making a face at the camera. “Read off the ingredients, Sprout.”

“What, you don’t have them memorized?” Alan asked, sliding a well-used cookbook across the counter. “You make these at least once a month.” He held up the cookbook to show to the camera. It was actually just a large three-ring binder, filled with print-outs and hand-written pages. Some of the pages were yellow with age, some smeared with old ingredients. All looked well loved.

Virgil shot him a look over his shoulder. “With everything else I have to remember, no. I don’t have any of the recipes memorized. That’s why we have a book of them. Now, ingredients, please.”

Alan rolled his eyes, running his finger down the page. “Fine. Three sticks of butter.” He glanced up at the camera, “That’s one and a half cups for those who want to follow along.”  
“Healthy these are not,” Virgil commented softly, pulling the butter from the fridge.

“Duh. They’re cookies.” Alan shot over his shoulder and then looked back to the book. “You’ll need two large eggs and that’s all out of the fridge.”

“Cool,” Virgil said, coming back to the counter. He pulled a big red mixing bowl from a cupboard beneath them and set it on the counter. “Okay, so now what?”

Alan stepped back and pressed a button on the oven before sliding back over to the counter. “Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. That’s in Fahrenheit, by the way, and I’m too lazy to convert it so sorry. And then you cream together your massive amounts of butter with two cups of sugar until its light and fluffy.”

Virgil snickered to himself. “I always think of that old Disney movie. The one with the blue alien.”

“Also cute and fluffy!” Alan quoted, distorting his voice to resemble Stitch from the movie. He looked into the bowl. “Okay. Eggs next!” 

Virgil waved a hand and let Alan crack the eggs into the bowl. “Nice. No shells.”

“It was one time,” Alan groused, rolling his eyes and throwing the egg shells into the compost bin. “And I was, like, eight.” Virgil just grinned at him, mixing the ingredients. “You know, most people use electric beaters for this. But then, most people don’t have the biceps and forearms of a god.”

Virgil snorted, choking on a laugh. “You’re just jealous,” he muttered, turning away to hide his grin. “How much molasses do I add?”

“Half a cup,” Alan grinned back, passing over the already measured molasses. “This stuff is so gross. It’s like sweet, but too sweet while not being sweet at all.” There was a long pause as Virgil just stared at him. “What?”

“I’m concerned that I actually understood that,” Virgil muttered. He glanced towards the camera. “You know that Tracy Logic that Lady Penelope was talking about? It’s hereditary; all of us suffer from it.”

Alan gave his brother a shove, although it didn’t even move him an inch. He huffed, slightly frustrated and then turned back to the cookbook. “Okay, and now we literally just add in the rest of the ingredients. Except the pecans.” He looked at the camera, leaning against the counter. “John’s allergic to pecans so we don’t even keep them on the island.”

“Mm-hmm,” Virgil hummed, dragging the flour closer to him and pulling out measuring cups and spoons. “Read them off, Sprout.”

“Four teaspoons of ground ginger.”

There was a little poof of brown dust as Virgil dumped the spice into the bowl. “Next?”

“Two teaspoons of baking soda. Not powder.”

“Soda, not powder,” Virgil repeated, measuring it out and dumping it in. 

“One and half teaspoons of cinnamon.” Alan watched as Virgil added that spice before commenting, “Did you know that there was a craze a few decades ago where people were swallowing a spoonful of cinnamon and filming themselves?”

Virgil gave him a somewhat surprised look, eyebrows raising. “That’s…not safe,” he said slowly.

Alan nodded. “Yeah, lots of people ended up in the hospital over that one.” He blinked, big blue eyes sliding to the side in thought. “Granted, it was probably better than that craze where they were eating laundry detergent.”

“What the heck?” Virgil whispered, staring into the camera, brows furrowed and looking highly concerned. 

Alan grinned, “And now that you’re completely befuddled, we will move on. You need a teaspoon of cloves.”

Virgil gave him a long, searching look before turning back to the mixture and adding the spice. “How much salt?” he asked, as it was the last thing on the counter, aside from the flour.

“Fourth of a teaspoon. And then four and a half cups of flour.” Alan stepped a bit closer, to look into the bowl as Virgil dumped in the remaining ingredients. However, this time the poof of flour was much larger and caused both of them to cough as they inhaled it. Alan waved a hand in front of his face, choking slightly. “Geez, bro, way to almost kill a man.”

“You’d have to be a man, first, Sproutling,” Virgil countered, coughing around a grin. Alan growled and grabbed the bowl away from, mixing it with a glare. 

It was only a moment before the mixture became too thick for Alan to handle though and he pushed the bowl back towards Virgil, rolling his eyes. “Put those muscles to use,” he grumbled. Virgil rolled his eyes but continued to mix the cookies as Alan pulled out two cookie sheets.

“Okay,” Virgil said, scooping up a little bit of dough. “Shape your dough into balls, about two inches big and them place them on the cookie sheet. Put them about two or so inches apart.” The two brothers worked in tandem, although Virgil stuck some of the dough into his mouth, much to Alan’s disgust. 

“You know that’s not recommended,” Alan pointed out, placing a ball on the pan. “Whatever would Scott say about being an example to poor impressionable me?”

“That you should know better,” Virgil responded promptly, tossing a snarky grin at his youngest brother.

Alan gave an exaggerated gasp, pressing one hand to his chest dramatically. “And you’re supposed to be the good one!” 

Virgil rolled his eyes, although the grin stayed firmly on his face. “No. That’s John."

“John’s a total Slytherin and you know it,” Alan quipped. He went back to his task of rolling balls of dough, and then two the pans were filled. “Okay, and now we just stick these in the oven and wait for thirteen to fifteen minutes.” He watched as Virgil slid the pans into the preheated oven. “What do we do now?”

Virgil shrugged. “Dunno. I don’t usually watch YouTube and I haven’t ever seen a baking video,” he said. 

“Me neither,” Alan muttered. “Huh.” They were silent for a short while, looking into the camera. 

Suddenly Virgil looked to his little brother. “Kayo told me that she and John were teaching you to dance. What’s that about?”

Alan scowled. “Gordon wants me to take his place at the charity function next month. But I didn’t know how to dance and I’d kinda have to know for that.” 

“Well, you know now,” Virgil pointed out. “So, what’s the problem?”

Alan shrugged. “It’s a charity dinner with all the big-wigs. I feel kinda out of place.” He hopped up onto the counter, swinging his feet. “Besides, they’re all, like, old.” 

Virgil had to give him that. “Why can’t Gordon go?” he asked, leaning back against the far counter, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Function in London that same night he wants to go to,” Alan responded, giving Virgil a knowing look. For his part, the older brother merely nodded in understanding. “And we can’t leave IR unmanned, and Scott had to go to the last one and we really are trying not to make you go too often because they always beg you to play for them and John’s gonna be in space. Because he hates people.”

“Thanks for not volunteering me to go,” Virgil grimaced. “I hate being forced to play.” 

“I know.” Alan sighed. “But John and Kayo are good teachers, so I know how to dance now.” He blinked and then looked towards the camera. “Oops…that’s probably a boring thing to talk about on film.”

Virgil gave a shrug. “They’re the ones that wanted to know what our lives are like. Welcome to our boring conversations.”

Alan rolled his eyes, smiling a little. “Why are we doing this again?” he asked, kicking his feet slightly. 

“Because Lady P asked, and we can hardly ever tell her no?” Virgil asked back. “It’s either her puppy dog eyes or our absolute fear of John being angry at us that keeps us from doing so.” 

“Let’s be honest, it’s our fear of John,” Alan responded. He looked at the camera, eyes wide. “It’s always the quiet ones, guys,” he said, as though that explained anything about why John would be angry if anyone said no to Lady Penelope. 

Virgil gave a solemn nod. “He’s a scary dude.” 

The camera cut to just before there was a ding from the timer and the two of them jumped slightly. “Okay, cookies are done. Just pull them out of the oven and let them cool and you’re good to go,” he said, doing just that. “And remember to turn the oven off so you don’t burn down the house.”

“One time,” Alan muttered, rolling his eyes and sliding off the counter. 

“We had to rebuild the ranch kitchen, Allie,” Virgil said, tossing his brother an amused smile. 

“To be fair,” Alan drawled, carefully putting the cookbook away on a shelf. “I was five.”

“Which is even more horrifying when you think about it,” Virgil replied. They tossed their dirty dishes in the sink, and Alan absently ran a wet washcloth over the counter, wiping up any mess. “And there you have it,” Virgil said to the camera. “Molasses cookies.”

“Have a good day, guys,” Alan waved. “Bye!”

And the screen went black.

**HaveAHeart97** 10 hours ago  
Oh thank goodness. This one didn’t have me crying my eyes out by the end. Made me hungry though.  
12.5k likes  
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**GimmeGimmeGimme** 10 hours ago  
Great, now I have to make cookies because they look so good. Thanks guys.  
12k likes  
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**HungryHippoes08** 9 hours ago  
Aww look at the two bros making cookies for their biggest bro. And their other big bro demanding attention too. It’s just too sappy sweet!  
10.4k likes  
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**SamathaReaners3** 8 hours ago  
Dude, that comment about John. “Gonna be in space. Because he hates people.” If that isn’t just a mood.  
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**KevinSaysYo39** 7 hours ago  
Was anyone else expecting a baking video from the Tracys? Cause I gotta say, I thought it was a pipe dream but they delivered.  
8k likes  
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**2348u89LovesYou** 6 hours ago  
That was so ****ing domestic. OMG.  
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	5. On Three!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Gordon and Alan might just be killed by an angry John.

This was, clearly, not a very professional video. The camera was shaky and zoomed in too closely to Gordon’s face. It looked more as though he were holding his phone up and filming, which he very well could be. Gordon glanced over his shoulder and whispered, “John’s home for the weekend. Came down for pie. I rarely get to get Johnny, so this is my chance.”

“He’s going to kill you,” Alan said from off camera, his voice hushed.

“Uh uh,” Gordon sing-songed. “He’s gonna kill us. You’re helping, Sprout.”

“Because you blackmailed me.”

“There was no blackmail involved. You just wanna get Johnny too,” Gordon replied with a snigger. He moved the camera a bit and it became obvious where they were. They were on the lounge balcony, lying on their stomachs near the edge. Why the balcony didn’t have any railing was a question for another day, but the two boys were clearly planning something nefarious. 

“Lies,” Alan muttered, and the camera panned over to show him, water balloon in hand. There was something odd about the balloon though, as though it were tinted the wrong color. “Is he down there?”

“Yup. He’s reading in one of the loungers.”

Alan grumbled, giving a sigh. “Great. We’re going to ruin his book.”

“I’ll buy him a new one. Now on three,” Gordon replied, aiming the camera to get a view of John, relaxed on the deck. “One, two, three!”

John looked up at the yell, but it was too late as the balloons had already been launched. They splattered upon contact with him—both Gordon and Alan had impeccable aim—covering him with colored water. Three more balloons hit him before he could recover and dive beneath the balcony for cover. “GORDON!”

Gordon was laughing his head off, but then gave a yelp. Alan shrieked, half laughing, half scrambling to get away as the camera shook and showed them getting soaked with water from up above. Once they were sputtering and water had stopped pouring on them, Gordon aimed the camera at the bedroom balcony above them, focusing on the laughing forms of Virgil and Scott.

“Gotcha kids!” Scott called, placing a bucket at his feet. “Did you really think we wouldn’t notice you readying water balloons?” he asked, grin on his face.

“You’d better hope that dye is washable, guys,” Virgil said, still holding onto his own bucket. “Otherwise John might skin you alive.” 

“No,” John growled from where he stood in the lounge doorway, glaring fiercely. The camera jerked down to show him, shaking slightly as Gordon tried to muffle his laughter. John was very colorful, the dye having turned his skin varying shades of red and blue, with his hair a lurid green. His once light jeans were now splotched with orange and yellow. “I’ll just force feed them Grandma’s cookies.”

Alan choked. “I’d rather be skinned,” he muttered. John’s eyes narrowed and he stalked forward. “Uh, hey Johnny. It was all Gordon’s idea, I promise. He, uh…blackmailed me?”  
Apparently, John didn’t care about blackmail, as he grabbed Alan around the middle and unceremoniously threw him into the pool from the balcony. He was careful, of course, not to miss the pool. Alan landed with a giant splash and a yelp and John turned to Gordon, who was backing away slowly. “Gotta go, Space Face. Love ya!” he yelled before taking off, the camera going black as he sped away.

**Alexis Lojan** 10 hours ago  
Holy crap. This was flippin’ hilarious ya’ll  
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**ChaoticKitty** 9 hours ago  
What the heck? I’m laughing so hard. They’re so hopeless.  
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**DerpyDan** 8 hours ago  
Guys, these are the people like half the world owe their lives to. Seriously.  
8k likes  
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**ScoobyDoobyDoo23** 7 hours ago  
But was the dye washable?  
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**Shawn Parker** 6 hours ago  
I love the fact that Scott and Virgil saw those two getting water balloons and were just like “yup, we gotta get some buckets of water to dump on them” but didn’t try to stop them or anything  
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**CaptainJazzHands** 5 hours ago  
Did you see how easily John just tossed Alan into the pool? Like, damn, boy!  
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**NorthernStar2314** 4 hours ago  
This is the content I need in my life. Keep it coming, bros. Keep it coming.  
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** Tracy Brothers Take World by Storm with Newest YouTube Channel  
by Anna Landrick **

_In a very un-Tracy-like move, the world’s richest sons have allowed themselves to be filmed for YouTube videos. Apparently convinced to do so by Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, who has starred a few of the videos herself, they made the videos to let the world better understand just who they are. _

_Jeff Tracy moved his family away from the family ranch in Kansas just a year after the tragic death of his wife. The self-made billionaire stated a need for a more family-friendly environment away from the media for the move, and it seemed as though the media would never be allowed access to any of the boys. Seldom were any of the brothers seen in public, with the youngest having been highly protected from the media in general. Since the disappearance/death of Jeff Tracy (a body was never recovered, and although the will has been read some speculate that he may still be alive), and the outing of the Tracys as the pilots of International Rescue, any hope for media coverage has withered. Their privacy only seemed to grow exponentially._

_Despite this fact, Lady Penelope seems to have done the impossible. Never before has there been any coverage of the Tracy household. They live somewhere in the Pacific, on their own private island but before now no one knew just what that island held. Many speculated that, as rich as the family was, if would have a mansion of epic proportions with the staff to match. Amazingly, we now see that it’s just a home for a family that’s doing their best to save the world. _

_There are only six videos on the channel, named ThunderbirdsAreGo, but it’s already offering up a wide range of content. There’s a house tour, some interviews, and even a prank video that was recently posted. We still aren’t sure if Gordon survived that encounter with the second eldest, but we assume that no bloodshed has occurred. _

_Even with only six videos so far, the channel has amassed a staggering 9 million subscribers, with each video reaching over a million views within an hour of being posted. While there have been a few comments that are disparaging, the vast majority of viewers seem to be almost begging for more. _

_This is an insight to the lives of some of the most talked about men in the world, and we’re all feeling just a little blessed to be able to watch. As one commenter sagely said in response to the latest video: “keep it coming boys. Keep it coming.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after looking at the house again, I have realized that there is no way that Scott and Virgil could have dumped a bucket of water from the top balcony and hit two people on the bottom balcony. However, this is my universe, and I say it can happen so it has happened. Yup.


	6. Know When to Fold 'Em

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we figure out if the boys wear boxers or briefs.

Lady Penelope was laughing when the video started, the camera shaking slightly with the force. Virgil was seated on the floor, blinking up at her in slight confusion, piles of laundry surrounding him. “Hello world,” Penny stated, her giggles dying down. She panned the camera around a bit, showing off the set of massive, industrial sized washer and dryer, two soaking sinks and a long folding table. Despite there being a folding table, though, Virgil was clearly seated on the stone-tiled floor in front of the dryer. “We’re joining Virgil on laundry duty today.”

“You haven’t exactly explained why, though,” Virgil muttered, absently folding a shirt and sticking it in a pile. There were five piles, one for each brother, with all the unfolded clothes still in the open dryer behind him. 

“I thought it would be interesting,” Penny replied from behind the camera. It seemed that this video wasn’t going to have her starring in it, aside from her voice. Nor did it seem as though she had a clear plan for the video itself. “Virgil, dear, how can you tell whose laundry is who’s?” she asked, as Virgil tossed another folded shirt into a different pile.

Virgil shrugged. “I just know? I mean, I’ve seen each of us wear these, so it’s not too difficult to figure out.”

“Plus, you each have your own distinctive styles,” Penny acknowledged. “Do you ever wash anyone’s laundry aside from your own and your brothers? I’m only asking because there was no one else on the chore chart aside from you five boys.”

Virgil shrugged. “Brains, Grandma and Kayo all do their own laundry unless they can’t. If that’s the case, then whoever is on laundry duty takes care of it for them.” He tilted his head to one side. “Why?”

Penny shrugged, the camera moving with her. “Someone was asking if you folded each other’s unmentionables, and were also wondering if that included Kayo’s.” It was an odd question, but definitely not the weirdest one they’d had come their way.

Virgil, though, sighed and rolled his eyes. “Penny, honey, I’ve held people’s guts in their bodies. I’ve delivered babies at thirty thousand feet. I’ve had to recover remains from disasters. If I, and my brothers for that matter, can do all that, then we can clean and fold pieces of cloth without any discomfort, no matter who they belong to.”

“That’s a valid point,” Penny acquiesced. “For that matter, everyone, if you’re too embarrassed to handle your partner’s unmentionables, then you’re too young to be in a relationship.”

Virgil laughed. “Didn’t know we were giving relationship advice on our channel, my lady,” he said, raising a single eyebrow.

“Oh, it’s a well-rounded set,” Penny said with a wave that was just barely caught in the edge of the camera. “Okay, then, how do you wash your uniforms?”

Virgil blinked at her, startled by the sudden change of topic. “Um…we make sure the sensors are disconnected and then throw them in the wash?” he answered, sounding confused. “Brains made them machine washable. Also, we each have like six sets, just in case.” 

“What are the sensors?” Penny asked, clearly fishing for a little more information. She knew that the viewers were curious about the inside of IR as much as they were curious about the lives of the Tracy brothers. She was willing to let them have a little bit of information, especially as this wasn’t exactly classified.

“Bio-readers,” Virgil said, focusing on the pair of jeans he had pulled from the large lump of laundry in the dryer next to him. “Designed to relay if we’re in any kind of distress. Rescues are dangerous, and IR tends to do the rescues that are far too dangerous for anyone else.”

Scott wandered in then, flopping unceremoniously to the ground and slumping against Virgil’s back. The younger grunted, taking his brother’s weight easily, but with look that was a cross between amused and concerned. “Why are you filming Virgil folding laundry?” Scott muttered around a yawn.

“To answer the age-old question of boxers or briefs,” she replied flippantly. 

Scott shot her an arched look over Virgil’s shoulder before sliding further down. “Why?”

“Because the people want to know, darling!” Penny practically crowed, stifling her giggles. “However, it seems that the answer for all you boys is boring old boxer-briefs.”

“You’ve seen our uniforms,” Scott mumbled. “Skin tight is best.”

Virgil waggled his eyebrows. “We like to be well supported,” he added, with a wicked grin. Penny gave a delighted laugh and Virgil gave a shrug, his grin becoming a little less saucy. “After the Hood, we changed our uniforms, as I’m sure everyone knows. We didn’t have to hide our identities anymore, so we went with a tighter design. It’s helped with movement, as well as to be able to add better sensors, and keep any material from snagging on anything.” The explanation finished, Virgil turned his attention to Scott, shifting slightly. “Weren’t you on the mainland today?” he asked. “You shouldn’t be this tired.”

“Ugh,” Scott groaned. 

“Story time!” Penny chirped, sliding over a bit so that she could better catch Scott on camera. He gave her a glare but after a moment sighed.

“Okay, so I was at TI today, right?” he said, sitting up just a little. Virgil hummed in response, continuing his folding and Scott looked into the camera. “Right, so Tracy Industries. Big, world-wide mega company focusing on green energy and aeronautics and tech and what have you. It’s not a public company. It’s currently solely owned by myself, my brothers and Kayo, split evenly six ways. I’m CEO, with John as my second. Right. So. It has a board. Dad set it up as a sounding board, so that he could have some help making big decisions or whatever.”

“Right,” Penny murmured. “It’s a good idea, considering the size of the company.”

“Well the board today told me that Tracy Industries would no longer be funding International Rescue.”

Virgil paused in his folding, brow furrowing. “Wait… TI _doesn’t_ fund IR though…”

“Exactly!” Scott exclaimed, throwing his arms up and nearly whacking his brother in the head. He gave a soft apology at Virgil’s warning glare. “So, I told them that. And then I figured that I’d better inform them that even if TI did fund IR, they didn’t have the power to be able to pull any of the funding.”

Virgil winced. “Hold up. I remember you telling me that right after Dad disappeared, Johnson took over the board and replaced a bunch of people. They didn’t like that, did they?”

“It’s been a nightmare, Virge,” Scott groaned, rolling his eyes. “I swear, I envy the fact that you don’t have to deal with them.” It went without saying that Virgil had little to do with the business side of the company.

Penny cleared her throat. “Boys? What gave this Johnson the right to replace anyone on the board?” she asked.

There was a large sigh from Scott. “So, when Dad first disappeared, there was a lot of upheaval. What with the Hood outing IR, and the CEO of TI being MIA, it was a mess. Johnson’s been on the board the longest, and he seems to think that that means that he’s entitled to more power. He was actually vying for control of TI, stating that we weren’t capable of heading up the company or whatever.”

“It was a load of crock,” Virgil said, his voice just short of being a growl. Scott patted his arm absently, running a hand down his own face. “Anyway, Scott and John stepped up and took over.”

“Mm-hmm,” Scott nodded. “And, after seven months of Dad being gone the authorities called his death and had his will read, which put us firmly in control of the company. But the damage to the board had already been done.” And then Scott smirked, pointing at the camera. “But you see, TI doesn’t need a board. So today I disbanded it.”

Virgil froze again, eye wide as he twisted a bit to look at Scott over his shoulder. “You just disbanded it?”

“Uh huh,” Scott said with a satisfied smile as he relaxed against his brother. “John’s looking into people to build a new board with. Preferably no one that Johnson had chosen.”

“So…what happened to Johnson and his tagalongs?” Virgil asked.

“Considering the amount of fighting they put me through, all eight of them were terminated effective immediately,” Scott responded. He gave another sigh. “It’s gonna be a bit before TI is back to where it needs to be, but hopefully it won’t be such an uphill struggle anymore.”

Penny was silent for a moment, the camera just focused on the two boys, one lounging while the other diligently folded laundry. “So,” she spoke up, gaining their attention. “If you don’t get funding from TI, where _does_ International Rescue get it’s funding from?”

There was a pause and then Scott gave a little shrug. “To be honest, that’s mostly classified,” Scott said. “But I can say that we are legally funded, and honestly don’t use as much money as you would think. Most of the funding goes towards medical and rescue supplies, with the other amounts going towards repairs for the Birds and the Pods.”

“What about fuel?” Penny asked. Fuel wasn’t cheap in this day and age by any means, and machines as large as the Thunderbirds had to use a lot of it.

Virgil cleared his throat, tossing a pair of shorts into a pile that just had to be Gordon’s considering the amount of brightly-colored Hawaiian print shirts it held. “The Birds don’t use fuel. Brains and I designed the propulsion systems, and it’s a technology that actually doesn’t effectively work in anything smaller than our Birds as of yet. We’re working on a way to make it work for cars and normal planes and all, but it’s slow going.”

“So…” Penny drawled. “You guys essentially saw that you’d be spending billions on fuel and decided to just cut that issue out of the equation?” She sounded impressed.

Both Scott and Virgil exchanged looks and then shrugged. “Pretty much,” they chimed in unison.

Penny sighed. “Tracy logic,” she muttered. “They don’t just fix a problem; they blow it completely out of the water.”

“I mean,” Virgil drawled. “You’re not _wrong_…”

Penny huffed, and the screen went black.

**Tomo Utada** 10 hours ago  
They just invented a fuelless propulsion system because they didn’t want to spend billions on fuel in their effort to save the world? Holy crap these guys are like super humans or something.  
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**RobbyReturnLine** 9 hours ago  
I guess once you’ve delivered a complete stranger’s baby in the middle of a crisis situation folding someone’s underwear isn’t gonna faze you much  
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**Charity Graff** 8 hours ago  
Dude, we learned more from this domestic piece of fluff about the company and IR and stuff than we did during the Q&A.   
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**Mr.Brightside314** 7 hours ago  
Do you think we’ll ever get to see stuff with the actual Thunderbirds? Not that I don’t love this stuff, but like I kinda wanna see the Birds.  
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**HappyHasACow** 6 hours ago  
Who the heck thinks they can just take over a company that they have no ownership of? I mean, really? Everyone knows that TI isn’t a public company.  
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**SingMeToSleep** 5 hours ago  
They’re reminding me that I have piles of unfolded laundry on my chair and I don’t even have a world to save or a company to run keeping me from folding it. The guilt is heavy.  
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	7. Ashes To Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally see a Thunderbird.

The screen was slightly hazy with smoke, and the ground crunched under the feet of the person holding the camera. Up ahead, Thunderbird Two loomed, like a beacon in a gray landscape. A fire had recently swept through wherever they were, and this was the after effect of the devastation. 

Scott was seated on the Thunderbird Two’s ramp, hunched forward to rest his arms against updrawn knees. His helmet rested next to his hip, and his sooty face was turned to look down at Alan, who was sprawled out on the ramp next to him. Gordon was stretched out on the ramp as well, lying on his stomach, head resting in his arms. Neither Alan or Gordon wore their helmets either, and both were just as dirty as Scott was.

They clearly didn’t know they were being filmed, and the camera-person went completely silent, just training the camera on the three brothers.

“We good to go?” Alan muttered with a yawn.

“Just waiting for Virge to double check the Pods,” Scott replied, sounding just as tired. He looked over at Gordon. “You okay, Gords?”

“Fine,” Gordon said, opening a single eye before letting it fall shut. “Twenty-two hours of fire-fighting isn’t exactly easy work, Scott.”

Scott sighed. “Tell me about it,” he muttered. “Thunderbird Five, we good to go?”

John popped up as a hologram, hovering over Scott’s wrist. “Local authorities say that they can handle the rest,” John said. He turned to look over at Alan. “Allie, I’ve got a ship in distress out here.”

“How so?” Alan asked, although he didn’t exactly sound capable of doing another rescue at that time. 

“Their fuel line was severed by some space junk,” John explained. “It leaked out and they’re just drifting at the moment.”

Alan blinked, turning just enough to give John a long look. “They’re lucky there wasn’t an explosion. How soon do they need to be pulled in?”

John paused, clearly talking to someone on a different line. “They’re good for another three days if needed. GDF wouldn’t be able to get to them for a week with where they are, but the captain says that you should get a good shower, food and a nap before coming up after having dealt with that fire.”

“FAB,” Alan yawned. “Yeah. Let me eat, get clean and get some sleep and I’ll go get ‘em.” 

“Sounds good,” John smiled. “Good work with the fire. Let me know when you’re about to lift off. Thunderbird Five out.” John disappeared and Scott let his arm drop. 

“You sure you’re good to fly?” Gordon asked Alan, although he didn’t bother moving from his prone position. 

Alan shrugged, wiggling a little on the metal ramp. “I’ll be fine in a bit. The ship isn’t in any immediate danger, so I’ll be able to rest up enough.” 

Virgil came out of the depths of Thunderbird Two at that moment, looking just as dirty and exhausted as his brothers. He handed water bottles to Alan and Scott and shook Gordon’s shoulder until the younger man took a bottle for himself. “Pods are good to go,” he said, glancing around. He did a double take at seeing the camera. “Kayo? Why are you filming?”

“Lady Penelope has stated that a majority of your fans want to know more about rescues. She figured I would know what could and couldn’t be filmed,” a feminine voice answered. She stepped closer, the camera bobbing just a little. Scott was staring up at the camera now, scowling a little. Alan and Gordon hadn’t bothered moving.

“More about rescues?” Scott said, running a hand down his face. “Well, I can tell you they’re not glamorous.”

“I can see that,” Kayo replied. “Would you like to explain what happened here?”

“Fire,” Virgil grunted, leaning against the side of his ship. “Over thirty thousand acres gone. Swept through a town.”

Scott nodded. “We don’t deal with wildfires until they endanger people, since we’re in the people-rescuing business and all. Had to come in and evacuate the town as the fire turned so fast that most didn’t have enough warning to leave on their own.”

“And?” she asked.

“We got them all out,” Virgil said with a relieved and slightly incredulous huff. “That was a good outcome. We weren’t expecting it, to be honest, as we rarely have a case like this that comes out with zero percent loss of life.”

“Still took us a good twenty-two hours though,” Alan grumbled. His face scrunched up. “All this because someone threw a lit cigarette out a car window.”

“Smoking kills,” Gordon quipped tiredly, finally moving and carefully getting himself to his feet. Virgil’s eyes narrowed a bit as he watched, but then he gave a nod and straightened himself. 

Absently helping both Scott and Alan to their feet, Virgil stretched slightly, looking towards Kayo and the camera again. “You’ve been out here for six hours, Kayo. You good to fly?” The camera bobbed a bit, as though Kayo nodded. “Good. Alan? You riding with me or Scott?”

“Scott,” Alan said, yawning again. “See you at home.”

Scott clapped Virgil on the shoulder, waved at Gordon and threw an arm over Alan’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Virgil blinked at the retreating pair, and then turned to Gordon. “Come on, let’s get going. See you at home Kayo.”

And the screen went black.

**YusukeTomo** 18 hours ago  
I remember hearing about that fire I think. Over 30,000 acres destroyed and at least 500 homes gone. At least no one died.  
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**HarryStanley** 16 hours ago  
Dude, they look exhausted. And that’s just from saving the people. Imagine if they did what everyone used to tell them to do and tried to save all the belongings and things. Frankly, I think they do more than enough already.  
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**MargaretLovesYou** 15 hours ago  
Crap. Poor Alan. Back to back rescues can’t be easy. And he has to go to space next too. GDF needs better ships or something.  
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**BeLikeAHero23** 10 hours ago  
Yo, Kayo is like super sneaky. They didn’t even notice her until Virgil came out and saw. She’s gotta be awesome.  
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**UTooBrute39** 9 hours ago  
You always hear about the rescues that are all like action-adventure stuff and think Whoa! I’d like to be with International Rescue and save the damsels and be a hero! And then you see this, where they’re tired and dirty and been working for almost a full day probably without stopping and it kinda brings reality back, you know?  
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**ForeverMeg** 8 hours ago  
This was a little depressing. Let’s bring back the domestic fluff please.  
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**FamilyManGreg** 5 hours ago  
Thanks for getting us out of the fire. Homes and belongings can be replaced, but lives can’t and you saved mine and my familys’ that day. I am forever grateful.  
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	8. Deep Blue Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gordon and Alan go swimming.

They were in the water, bobbing gently, when the camera came on. Gordon was dressed in a dark blue wetsuit, not in IR uniform, but something that was rather similar. “Hello world,” he grinned. “We’re gonna show you something that many of you aren’t ever going to be able to see in person,” he said, waving a hand around. The camera panned a bit and showed that they were literally in the middle of the ocean, a boat floating nearby. “Alan’s on the camera.”

The camera turned, and Alan’s face filled the screen, his eyes scrunched up as he gave the biggest grin he possibly could. He turned the camera back to Gordon. “Come on,” Gordon said with a wave, pulling his mask back over his face. “Let’s go.”

There was a bit of a fumble as Alan assumedly pulled on his mask, and then they were sinking. 

Despite having the technology, it was clear that this video wasn’t going to have much speaking in it as Gordon motioned the camera forward, through the bubbles that were obscuring everything from sight for a moment. When the bubbles cleared, a whole new world was revealed.

They were suspended in the water, a few meters above an old shipwreck. The ship had been there for some time, probably late twentieth century or early twenty-first. It was a large vessel, probably had been a personal yacht or entertainment ship of some kind. And the ocean had claimed it as its own.

It lay on its side, it’s boards of wood, metal and fiberglass buckling under the water and time. There was a faint paint scheme scene through the layers of coral and sea debris. A name, possibly Lady De-something. The Rutter was disconnected from the rest of the machine, lying half buried in the sand behind the boat. Some shrimp had made it their home.

Coral was growing around the wreck, colorful tropical fish darting in and out of the new growth and the old metal and wood structure. Gordon swam a bit closer, pointing out a particular fish that was a stunning blue and yellow. It gazed at him before swimming hurriedly away. The two brothers swam to the wreak and Gordon dived a bit, waving Alan in through an opening in the side of the ship. 

Inside was dark, and both Alan and Gordon switched on their lights, illuminating the space. Old furniture was scattered about the wreak, toppled over and succumbing to both time and water. The space had been elegant and opulent at one point, but now it looked eerie and distorted. The sunlight cutting through the water was only able to penetrate the inside from a few points, casting wavery light in odd places. 

Gordon continued onward, and Alan followed. They clearly knew where they were going, had been here and explored before. Most wrecks were off limit these days, after all, due to ocean restrictions and protections, as well as wrecks being known for being dangerous places. But this wreck was probably in waters near Tracy Island or somewhere they frequently visited. 

A school of fish exploded out from behind a counter, filling the sea in front of them with a flurry of color and bubbles. They quickly swam through one of the broken windows, disappearing into the reef beyond. Gordon shrugged slightly at whatever motion Alan had made, and then pointed. 

There was a large five-point starfish, a startling display of white and red. It was somewhat spiky and looked fascinating to those that had only ever seen the traditional starfish sold in tourist spots. Near the starfish was a brain coral, growing out of what looked to have been a sink at one time. 

They studied the wildlife for a moment longer and then slowly moved to the other side of the wreck, near where the fish had escaped through the window. Gordon held a single finger to his mask, a motion for silence, and then pointed out the window. Alan trained the camera that way and zoomed in.

Three large sharks circled the water. It was difficult to see what kind of shark they were, although they were clearly not Great Whites. They swam gracefully, surrounded by other fish amongst the colorful coral. It was a peaceful scene, and the camera stayed trained on them for a long while, the two boys watching the sharks circle.

And then Gordon moved again, heading back out of the wreck and back towards the boat. Alan followed, and they took their time, letting the camera focus on different kinds of fish, shrimp, coral and even a funky looking crab before they both slowly ascended to the surface. 

Gordon hauled himself onto the boat then reached out and took the camera—still filming—from Alan so he could do the same. He handed the camera back, removed his mask and grinned. “Thought you guys would like to see some wildlife in its natural habitat,” he said, stretching a little. “Sharks are always so much cooler in the ocean than in aquariums.”  
“Be careful Gords,” Alan teased. “You’ll make it sound as if you don’t approve of aquariums.”

Gordon shook his head, heading for the side of the boat and peering down into the water. “Oh no, I think they’re great. It’s an awesome way for people to be able to learn about the ocean if they’re not able to see it themselves,” he said. “And the amount of conservation that aquariums and zoos and stuff do is amazing.” He pointed out to the approximate area that they had seen the sharks swimming. “In fact, those Blue Tips we saw would probably be extinct by now if not for the work of the aquariums.”

“That’s true,” Alan said, the camera shaking as the younger presumably shrugged. “Actually, it was aquariums around the world that pushed for the cleaning of the oceans and the laws regarding fishing to be changed,” he expounded. “Apparently now, in 2065, we’re a lot better off than they were in the early 2000’s and so. The world was heading towards a mass extinction before we humans got our act together.”

Gordon laughed, leaning back against the side of the boat. “Look at us lecturing when we were just meaning to show you some pretty fish,” he said. “The ship we showed you was the wreck of the Lady Doranne. It sunk back in 1992 after hitting a coral shelf. It was a luxury yacht owned by some millionaire or the other. No one was hurt in the wreck but they just left it, so the ocean took it over.”

“It’s pretty cool,” Alan commented around what sounded like a yawn. “Gordon’s got some great film of some other wrecks from around the world that he might be able to show you. He’s seen some old stuff, like 1600’s old, as well as ships like the Titanic and the Koravi. All kinds of things.”

Gordon nodded, running a hand through his wet hair. “Yeah. If you’re interested I can put up some of that footage. Stuff like that is fascinating to me. Alan’s got some pretty cool footage of space too.”

“Yeah, but we’re talking about water right now, Fish Feet,” Alan laughed. “Oh hey, I had another idea for a video,” he said, and you could just hear the amusement in his voice.  
Gordon gave him a curious look, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, Sprout? What’s that?”

“Do you remember that game we used to play back at the ranch? The Floor Is Lava?” 

And the screen went black

**David Golman** 10 hours ago  
I live in a landlocked country, and seeing the ocean like that was really cool. Thanks guys. Don’t get eaten by sharks.  
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**HillaryUtopian** 9 hours ago  
Pretty pretty fish. What kind of starfish was that anyway? I’ve never seen one like that.  
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UptownFunkyGirl 8 hours ago  
Floor is lava? Great, now I’m going to be highly anticipating that video. I can’t wait  
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**SimonSays328** 7 hours ago  
Sharks are so cool. I’m glad that its illegal to hunt them now. I mean, it was before, but now its actually enforced, you know?   
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**MickeyManic99** 6 hours ago  
The fact that there is no consistency in these video subjects is like really really refreshing. You never know what you’re going to get from the Tracy family, but you’re never disappointed.   
6.9k likes  
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**SarahScreamsLove9** 5 hours ago  
I wouldn’t mind seeing some more shipwrecks, personally. That’s really cool.  
5.7k likes  
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**IDareYouToTry88** 4 hours ago  
That was a really peaceful video. Thanks guys.  
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	9. Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the brothers are Really Really Mad, and one is Really Really Hurt.

“John, what happened?” Penny asked as soon as the video started. Her voice was strained, and she was standing in the middle of the back hall of the lounge floor of Tracy Villa, John standing in front of her.

He turned, face stoic, green eyes blazing. He was in uniform, the skin-tight blue and orange rather bright in the gray of the hall. “Why are you filming?” he asked, his tone just short of sharp.

“Because I’m angry,” Penny replied. Her voice was sharp, stilted and so very angry. It wasn’t directed at John, but his eyes narrowed regardless. “You’re angry. All of your brothers who are currently conscious are angry. And the world should hear why. So, what happened?”

“Langstrom Fischler happened,” John spat. His face twitched and he sucked in a breath. “Fischler and his stupid experiments and disregard for anyone’s safety. This isn’t even the first time. It’s just the worst.”

“How bad?” Penny asked, swallowing heavily.

“Six people are dead, Pen. Four in critical condition, including Virgil. Twelve others injured. We just barely managed to get out them and the other twenty-three out,” John answered, the anger leaking out of him as he looked down the hall towards the infirmary. “And Fischler is trying to foist all the blame on us again.”

Penny snarled, a sound that was very un-ladylike but carried easily to the camera she was holding. “It was his robotic water purifier that went haywire and tried to kill everyone. He’s the one that called for help. How is that in any way the fault of IR?”

“How was the CIRRUS incident the fault of IR? Or the comet? Or his solar collector” John asked, throwing out an arm. “He’s never been reprimanded for any of it though, regardless of the danger to civilians and the fact that he’s nearly killed at least one of us each time he tests something new.”

There was silence for a moment and then Penny sighed. “How is Virgil?” she asked softly.

John ran a hand down his face, slumping against the wall. “Four broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, torn rotator cuff, trauma to his lungs and spleen, and a bad concussion. He’s going to be out of commission for a while.”

“And Fischler?” Penny asked.

John’s face twisted and the anger flared back to life for a moment. “He’s fine. Uninjured. Doesn’t seem to care that six of his employees lost their lives to those machines, and that Virgil nearly lost his. Already talking about his next idea.”

“Can we see Virgil?” Penny asked.

John eyed her for a long moment. “I’m not sure how appropriate that is for YouTube, Penny,” he responded. “He’s not even conscious at the moment.”

“I’m aware, dear,” she replied. “But the rest of your brothers are in the infirmary with him and I think the rest of the world needs to know just what they’re thinking at this time.” 

There was a long, considering silence, and then John waved her into the infirmary. "I need to get back to Five," he said softly. "I didn't exactly give myself time to reacclimatize, so I need to get back before I make things worse." The camera shifted to the side and just barely caught Penny giving John a kiss on the cheek in the corner of the screen, before he turned and walked away. 

Penny stepped quietly, training the camera not on the still form on one of the beds, but on Scott, sitting next to that bed. He looked exhausted, his head resting in his hand as he just focused on breathing. Gordon and Alan were nearby, speaking softly with Brains. There was the soft, steady beeping of a heart monitor in the background. “Scott, darling,” Penny spoke, gaining the attention of the eldest.

Scott looked up, saw the camera and kept his silence. He shifted in his chair and Penny came a little closer. Virgil came into view on the screen and it wasn’t pretty. The blankets covered him up to his chest, but the bandaging and wires were clearly visible beneath the cloth. His face, what could be seen of it behind the oxygen mask, was heavily bruised and blood had dried into his hair. “Scott, I’ve spoken to John and he agrees that the world needs to know just what happened today.”

Scott looked past the camera, presumably to Gordon and Alan and Brains. And then he huffed. “Fischler created a machine that he said would purify large amounts of water. It was supposed to identify contaminated bodies of water and clean them.” He gave the camera and look and rolled his eyes. “It went wrong.”

“How?”

“Did you know,” Gordon softly drawled from behind the camera, “that humans are roughly sixty percent water?”

Scott scowled. “I don’t know how he could have messed up so badly, but Fischler’s machines started attacking the employees. We were called in to help with the evacuation. Fischler demanded to be rescued first.”

“Six people are dead,” Penny said quietly.

“Three were already gone when we got there,” Scott sighed. “The others are the result of a failure of evacuation practices and Fischler literally pushing one of them into the path of the machine as he was trying to get out.”

“Frankly,” Alan nearly snapped, “I say next time we get called in to fix his mess, we just leave him behind.”

"Personally, I uh, I agree," Brains spoke up. Scott, for his part seemed to be considering it before he shook his head and slumped into his chair. Virgil, for his part, was still unconscious on the bed throughout this all. There was some shuffling from behind the camera and Alan came into view, leaning against Scott and absently grabbing Virgil's hand where it rested above the blankets.

"You're in the saving people business," Penny said, although from the tone of her voice she very much agreed with the idea. "And, last I checked Fischler is a person."

"We had to listen to Virgil scream," Alan said softly, his voice choked. Scott wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder, pulling him closer. "I don't want to ever hear him scream like that again."

"And there's debate as to whether someone so stupid can be human, Pen," Gordon grumbled, coming into view on the other side of Virgil's bed. Someone behind the camera cleared their throat and Gordon rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to apologize, Grandma, because I'm honestly not sorry. I could say so much worse."

"Do so and I won't let this video be posted to the internet, Gordon," Grandma warned. She took care to stay off the camera, though, and Gordon gave a small sigh.

"Darlings," Penny said, her soft voice soothing and drawing a small sigh from each of the boys. "Everything will be okay. Virgil will heal and the world will know what happened."

The screen went black.

**Langstrom Fischler Sues International Rescue for Defamation of Character  
By Mark Minsterluff**

_In what could either be considered a daring or a stupid move, Langstrom Fischler of Fischler Enterprises has sued International Rescue following the posting of their latest YouTube video. The video stated that Fischler’s experiments were the cause of multiple deaths and injuries, including some rather severe injuries to one of the IR Operatives._

_The case was an interesting one to follow as Fischler demanded that IR not only was defaming his character, but responsible for the loss of his experiments in multiple cases. IR, in an interesting turn, agreed that they had destroyed many of his inventions, but only in an effort to save people from them. The evidence they provided was shockingly clear._

_As it turns out, IR doesn’t just film videos for YouTube, but they have recorded every rescue they’ve ever been on. The multiple cases of Fischler’s blunders were plain for everyone to see. Before this last rescue, there had been no loss of life, largely in thanks to International Rescue. However, during this last occurrence, six people tragically lost their lives and many more were injured._

_The judge clearly ruled Fischler’s case of defamation as fraudulent, and in turn had the man arrested for voluntary manslaughter, civilian endangerment, lack of proper safety procedures, and forging government documents. _

_Fischler, in a fit of rage, attempted to attack the youngest Tracy brother, only to be thwarted by a punch to the jaw from Gordon Tracy, the second youngest. Scott, the eldest, was heard to mutter that he wished he had been able to get a hit in. Virgil Tracy was not at the hearing, as he was still recovering from the rescue. _

_Both Fischler and the Tracys refused to comment when asked about the proceedings._


	10. I Mustache You A Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Q&A featuring some special guests.

It was a few weeks before another video was posted on the ThunderbirdsAreGo channel. All of the comments coming from the channel were centered around “get well” and “we love you”, so Penny didn’t think that the break was anything to worry about. Everyone just wanted International Rescue to continue on with what they were doing, and for Virgil to heal quickly and completely. 

On the flip side, Fischler Enterprises stock had crashed spectacularly, and as such there had been many layoffs. Tracy Industries as offered jobs to many of the suddenly jobless scientists, and those who could had taken the offer immediately. It wasn’t a foreseen outcome of the last video, or the lawsuit that had come from it, but it was a fortuitous one.   
The screen came up with Lady Penelope pointing the camera at herself, with a small smile. “Hello world,” she stated calmly, standing in the lounge at Tracy Villa. “We’re on the hunt for an illusive Virgil today,” she said. “I’ve been told he’s around here somewhere.” 

She panned the camera around the room. “Clearly, around here doesn’t mean in the lounge.” She started making her way to the back hall. “And I know he’s not in his studio, as he can’t yet paint or draw for long stretches, and he’s not in his room. So where could he be?” She peeked into the gym, and into Scott’s office—for whatever reason—but Virgil wasn’t there. 

She found him in the theater room, seated in a massive beanbag with Brains sitting next to him, close enough that their shoulders were touching. Two other people were being projected onto the wall, along with a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo. Clearly, the four were in the middle of some sort of meeting. 

“Hello darlings,” Penny called as she stepped inside. Virgil and Brains looked up at her, smiling, and the technological formulas disappeared from the wall. “Oops. Am I interrupting something?” she asked. 

“Not at all, honey,” Virgil said shifting just a little. His left arm was still in a sling, but the bruising was all but faded from his face. A tablet rested in his lap, a stylus in his hand. “Just a little bit of work for TI R&D.” 

“Moffie darling!” Penny said happily, focusing on the two people on the wall. “And Tycho! How good it is to see you two again! Are you joining Brains and Virgil with the work then?”

“Oh yes,” Tycho said with a grin, pushing his glasses up his nose. “They offered me a job with R&D and it’s just so fascinating!”

“And you, Moffie?” Penny asked. She was clearly smiling, and the camera changed position to indicate that she had seated herself on one of the couches that lined the wall. 

“Uh huh,” Moffie nodded with a happy smile. “Hiram talked me into joining. The work that TI does is fascinating and diverse enough that it can keep even me entertained for some time.”

“Plus,” Virgil said with a slight laugh. “If they’re working for us, we’ll hopefully not have to rescue them again.”

“That’s true,” Brains said, laughing along. “What, uh, what can we do for…for you Lady P?”

“Well, darlings, I have more questions,” Penny said, and there was a rustling of papers.

“What about?” Tycho asked, setting aside a tablet and leaning forward. 

“Oh, all sorts of things,” Penny replied. “They’re for another Q and A video for Youtube. Would you two lovelies like to join in?”

Moffie nodded and Tycho gave a bit of a shrug while Virgil nearly slumped against Brains. “Penny, honey, love-of-my-life, those questions are so weird though.”

“I am not the love of your life and you know it, Virgil Tracy,” Penny said sternly, although the humor was clear. “And of course they’re weird. I’m getting them from random people off the internet. Now. All four of you choose and number from one to ten.”

“Six,” Brains said with a confused blink.

“Two,” Virgil murmured.

“Eight,” Tycho shrugged again.

“One,” Moffie grinned.

“Oh good,” Penny said. “The order of answers will be Brains, Tycho, Virgil then Moffie, okay?” There were murmurs of assent and Penny cleared her throat. “Hmm. Is there a hole in your underwear right now?”

There was a shocked pause and then Moffie and Virgil burst out laughing. Virgil’s died quickly with a pained grunt as he moved to hold his ribs, but Moffie continued for a bit. Tycho gave an amused smile, sending a sympathetic look Virgil’s way, and Brains just patted his friend on the shoulder. “No,” the scientist said, shooting Penny and the camera an arched look. 

“Maybe,” Tycho grinned, tilting his head. “I haven’t checked.” It was said in jest, of course, and the others all gave snorts.

“No,” Virgil replied, finally leaning back again as the pain in his ribs ebbed off. “I would have to be wearing underwear for there to be holes in them,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow at the camera. It shook as Penny tried to muffle her laughter. 

“Oh really?” Moffie drawled, waggling her eyebrows at Virgil from her screen. “You know, if your snuggle-bunny isn’t giving you enough _ehem_ cuddles, I’m always free,” she said, and the others all laughed again. “And yes, I do have a hold in my underwear right now. Would you like to see?”

Penny’s laughter finally broke free and she nearly dropped her camera. “Oh no, dear. That’s quite alright.” She cleared her throat, taking a few steadying breaths. “Okay, do you sing in the bathroom?”

“Not, uh, usually,” Brains said. He shrugged then. “Sometimes though.”

“Oh, all the time,” Tycho said. “But you wouldn’t want to hear. I sound like a dying cow.” 

Virgil tilted his head a bit. “Yes,” he commented.

“And in the kitchen, the um bedroom, the of-office, the lounge, uh your Bird, your brothers’ b-Birds,” Brains counted off, to the snickers of the other. “The uh, the question should, should be does Virgil ever, uh, not s-sing?”

“Thanks,” Virgil said, nudging Brains with his shoulder gently. The scientist nudged him back, taking considerable care not to jostle him. 

“I sing,” Moffie said with a smug smile. “And I don’t sound like a dying cow, thank you.” She sniffed, tossing her hair. “I sound like a dying cat.” 

They all broke out into sniggers again, and Penny waved a hand, barely caught by the camera. “Next. If you could be reincarnated as any animal, what would you be?”

There was a pause, everyone blinking at her in confusion, and then Brains shrugged. “An otter.” It was said decisively, with no explanation and at the expectant pause he just stared at them, refusing to comment.

“Okaay,” Tycho drawled, twisting his lips in thought. “I’d be a cat,” he said slowly. “I think I would like that.”

“Caterpillar,” Virgil stated. At everyone’s questioning “what”s he smiled serenely. “Eat a lot, sleep a lot, wake up beautiful. That would be the life,” he replied.

“You do know that they only live for a few weeks at most, right?” Tycho said, his eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

“Ohh, perks!” Virgil said happily. 

“Virgil,” Brains groaned, dropping his head to his hand as Moffie giggled. Tycho shook his head and Penny gave a soft laugh. 

“I’d be a tamarin,” Moffie said, still giggling a little. “Cute, little and still with opposable thumbs.”

“A must,” Brains agreed. “Next?”

Penny’s paper rustled. “What would your theme song be if you had one?”

“Oh oh oh!” Moffie exclaimed, jumping up and down. “Virgil has actually written all of us theme songs!” Virgil groaned, flushing red and sliding down in his beanbag to hide somewhat ineffectually behind Brains. 

“Oh really?” Penny asked, and her surprised glee was clear to all that were listening. “Everyone?”

“Apparently,” Tycho said with a fond smile, “Virgil writes music for the people he considers his friends. Which includes everyone currently in this conversation.”

The camera shook a bit, as though Penny were copying Moffie’s earlier bouncing. “Oh, I just have to hear this!” she exclaimed.

“Can’t play right now, Pen,” Virgil pointed out, motioning to his arm, still in its sling. 

“Oh Virgil,” Moffie responded with an amazingly bright grin. “I’ve got all of them recorded.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, letting his head drop to Brains’ shoulder. “Of course you do,” he muttered.

Moffie turned so that she was facing the camera, typing something into her computer. “Now, he didn’t write a song for himself, but he has one for each of his brothers. I’ll send those to you at some point. But he does have one dedicated to the Thunderbirds.” She pushed a button and piano music played out. It was a jaunty tune, exciting and energetic. 

Virgil, if at all possible, turned even more red. “The next piece is for you, Penny,” Moffie said happily, queuing up the next piece of music. It was bright but had an air of elegance and aristocracy. There was a fondness to the music, and the earlier theme of the Thunderbirds tied into the song, as though to hint of her part in the organization. Penny gave a smile, turning the camera so she could show the world how pleased she was with the song. 

“Now for Brains,” Moffie said once the music had ended. And this song was calming, soothing and very lyrical for all that his had no lyrics. It told of a friendship that was deep and long and telling. Brains was smiling, again patting Virgil’s shoulder, but his fondness for the large man was evident. The song died away and the room was silent for a moment, as though to give reverence to the piece that had just finished. “And Tycho,” Moffie murmured.

This piece was fast paced, a little jumpy and very technical. However, it captured the man on the screen perfectly, and he clearly liked the way the piano sounded as he smiled and rested his chin on his folded hands. It was a short song, and sounded a little unfinished, as though their friendship was new enough that Virgil hadn’t had time to figure out an ending yet.

“And myself,” Moffie said with a pleased smile. And this song was a mix of chaotic elegance that was so Moffie that she couldn’t help but be happy with it. There was a very scientific undertone to the music, although she couldn’t explain what it was. When the song finished, she smiled at the embarrassed man. “Virgil, love, you shouldn’t be ashamed. Your music is amazing, and we all love the pieces.”

There was consent all around and Virgil sighed, finally straightening to show himself again. “Yeah, well…” he muttered. “It’s different when you know that everyone and their dog is going to be listening.”

“At least you weren’t playing, uh, live,” Brains commented, and Virgil could only nod.

“Well, that was lovely,” Penny said, sitting back a bit, the camera jostling slightly. “But on to the next question, shall we? Do you sleepwalk?”

“No,” Brains answered. “I sleep talk. M-math usually.”

Tycho shook his head. He didn’t give a verbal answer, but one wasn’t exactly needed.

“No,” Virgil replied. “I sleep like a rock.” He gave a sudden, self-conscious grin. “Or a bear, as my brothers say. But Alan used to sleepwalk. We’d find him all over the place. The worst was when he tried to fly Three in his sleep and John only just caught him at it. He’s stopped recently, although he’s started sleeping on the floor instead.”

“I sleepwalk,” Moffie admitted. “Not much, but I woke up to find myself doing the dishes once. Only I wasn’t washing a dish, but a disk from my computer instead.” She shook her head. “That was a day, let me tell you.”

Penny huffed a small laugh. “I can imagine. Now, have you ever kissed someone of your own gender?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s ayes all around,” Penny muttered, shuffling her papers again. “And no elaboration? I suppose not. Have you ever faked being ill?”

“I uh, didn’t want to, uh go to p-prom,” Brains admitted. The others ahh-ed, and he gave a small shrug, flushing slightly. “Didn’t have a, uh, date.”

“That’s too bad,” Tycho said, frowning at his friend. “Well did you have fun anyway?” At Brains’ nod he quirked a smile. “I’ve actually never faked sick before,” he admitted. “Been tempted to, though. Especially when Universities ask me to lecture. I hate lecturing.”

Virgil was blinking tiredly. “I don’t have time to fake being ill,” he muttered. “And honestly, I generally have some excuse or the other to be off active duty if I want or need. We at IR have decided that mental health days are important and if you need one and we’re not understaffed, then you should take one.”

“That’s probably a good concept to live by,” Moffie said, nodding thoughtfully. “I’ve faked ill before, but I’m not going to tell you why or when.” She grinned, eyeing Virgil. “May need to use those excuses at TI sometimes, you know.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” he responded and she laughed. 

“You okay?” Brains asked Virgil softly when the larger man shifted again, wincing a bit. Virgil gave a half-shrug, careful not to move his left shoulder and Brains huffed. “We may, uh, need to c-cut this short, Lady P.”

“Oh, Virgil, dear, why didn’t you say anything?” Penny asked, sounding just a little dismayed. “You are looking a little peaked.”

Tycho checked his watch. “You’re about a half hour late on your pain meds, Virge,” he said. “We probably should cut this short. Moffie and I can continue working on what we were talking about earlier.”

“Say goodbye to the world, dears,” Penny called, aiming the camera their way again, and both Moffie and Tycho waved their goodbyes before their feeds cut off. “And you too, darlings,” she said to Brains and Virgil, the former carefully helping the latter to his feet. 

“Goodbye world,” Virgil grunted, and Brains just gave a little bit of a wave. 

“Until next time,” Penny said, turning the camera to herself with a smile. “Perhaps I’ll corner Gordon or Scott again.”

And the screen went black.

**HammyHelper00** 12 hours ago  
Lots of techies answering random weird questions. My kind of video.  
12k likes  
View 823 replies

**Samantha Riley** 11 hours ago  
Holy cow that piano was awesome. Man, that boy can play!  
11.4k likes  
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**RobertRice234** 10 hours ago  
I really want to know who Virgil’s snuggle-bunny is. Though he’d be cute with any of those nerds, to be honest.  
10.9k likes  
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**SoLongThanksForFish** 9 hours ago  
Poor Virgil. That still looks painful. But at least he’s having fun with his friends.  
9.8k likes  
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**CameronCanCan** 8 hours ago  
Caterpillar. Lol. That’s a mood if I’ve ever heard one.  
9k likes  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the songs mentioned, I imagined the first one to be the piano version of the Thunderbird march. Penny's song is a piano version of her theme from the 2004 movie. The others I didn't have any particular songs in mind.


	11. Story Time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Scott tells a story to his grumpy siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following story does not belong to me. I found it on Pinterest and laughed so hard I was crying. Reading it aloud to my husband made it even funnier. I felt the need to share, so here you go. I have copied it word for word, but the original story can be found at cheezburger dot com.

“Welcome to Story Time With Scott,” Scott said as an opening, grinning into the camera he was holding out in front of him. “For today’s victims,” he coughed, “I mean audience we have Gordon.” The camera shifted to show Gordon, lying on his back on the floor, his legs resting in a chair above him. He’d thrown an arm over his face, pretty much intent on trying to ignore his big brother. “His back is acting up so he can’t escape.”

The camera shifted just a bit to show Virgil stretched out on a couch, his legs thrown over one end. His arm was still in a sling and he was glaring moodily at Scott. “And Virgil, who’s physical therapy is making him grumpy.” Virgil grumbled something and rolled his eyes.

There was a bit of a jostling and the camera was set up presumably on a tripod, angled so that it could capture all three of the brothers. Scott was still grinning. “Okay grumps,” he said to his brothers. “I trawled the internet for a funny story, and you’re going to listen to it.” Gordon mumbled something from under his arm. “What was that?”

“You don’t have a sense of humor though,” Gordon repeated after moving his arm just a bit. 

“Uh huh,” Scott replied, rolling his eyes at the camera. “Your very welcome for me trying to cheer the two of you up. Now, listen.” He sat back, crossed an ankle over his knee and placed a piece of paper on his lap. “When my grandfather was young, he owned a roadside motel, and my mother used to do work around the motel for the family.”

“Wait,” Virgil interrupted. “How old is this story? For context?”

“Really?” Scott asked with a sigh. “It was found in the old archives of the internet. From around 2015-2016. I don’t know. Don’t interrupt.”

“Fine,” Virgil grumbled. 

“Good.” Scott cleared his throat. “The building was old and they had bad pipes, so visits from the plumber were a fairly regular occurrence over there. 

“At one point they had a clogged toilet after a guest checked out, so they called the plumber to come and clean it out. The plumber came in with his bag of gear and set to work, but the clog was stubborn. After a few tries, he decided he needed to get the snake.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a serious plumbing snake, but the big ones are a sight to behold. This isn’t a little crank auger, it’s a full-on electrical powered snake with a big motor on the back and a little grabby claw on the end.”

Scott paused for a moment, his gaze wandering off in exaggerated memory. “I’m having flashbacks to when John had to fix the kitchen sink,” he said. Gordon snorted and Scott gave a small smile. “Anyway, so he fires up the snake and sends the metal coil down into the pipes with the claw closed, figuring whatever’s down there he’ll just bump it a bit, push it down the pipes until it clears—but this doesn’t happen either. Finally, in frustration, he twists the control to open the mechanical claw at the end of the coil, closes it on something, throws the motor in reverse and starts to pull it back up.”

Scott grinned at the camera upon noticing that both his little brothers seemed invested in listening to this story now. He continued reading, “By now a couple of members of the staff have gathered in the room to try and figure out what the hell got flushed down the toilet and this giant machine couldn’t remove. The motor is really straining—you know that sound an electric motor makes when it’s working really had? The whole machine is struggling to pull whatever this is back up through the pipes and into the room. 

“Finally, after an extended wait the object is slowly dragged, sopping wet, out of the toilet bowl—and it’s a shower curtain.”

Both Virgil and Gordon made soft, confused noises and Scott visibly had to choke back a laugh. “The staff is dumbfounded. They’re trying to figure out how this could have happened. It would be weird enough if the guest had ripped the shower curtain down and flushed it down the toilet, but the shower curtain in the room is still there. It would be even weirder if the guest had brought their own shower curtain to the motel and tried to flush it down the toilet, but it’s clearly one of their shower curtains. Did they try and steal the shower curtain, leave with it, then feel guilty and come back only to find that the shower curtain had already been replaced, and then flush the shower curtain down the toilet to hide the evidence?”

Gordon’s arm had moved off his face and he was watching Scott now, brow furrowed. Virgil was also gazing at his brother and Scott just returned their looks with a raised eyebrow, turning back to his paper nonchalantly. “While they’re discussing this, the room phone rings. The person on the other end is screaming, hysterical, so it takes a few minutes for them to figure out that it’s the housekeeper who was cleaning the rooms. After a few moments, they manage to get the story out of her.” 

Scott paused, clearly for dramatic effect and when Virgil looked ready to throw his shoe at him, he continued. “The snake had missed the clog entirely. Rather than spiraling down into the plumbing where it was intended to go, it had wound its way into the central line, and then back up the pipes in the room next door. It spiraled its way up, out the toilet bowl, and then started flailing wildly around the next-door bathroom like a Lovecraftian nightmare made of steel, knocking things off shelves and clattering furiously around the room. Then, while the hapless housekeeper watched in horror, a metal claw opened on the end of it and snagged the shower curtain, ripped it off the bar ring-by-ring, spun it around the room until it was coiled tightly around the cable, and dragged it back down the toilet bowl. 

“The actual clog was never found.”

Virgil and Gordon were giggling furiously at the mental image, and Scott smugly sat in his chair. Frankly, he was surprised he’d managed to keep a straight face through the story. “The poor housekeeper,” Virgil wheezed, curling around his injured ribs as he tried to control his laughter.

Gordon just laughed. “Oh gosh. That gives me so many ideas.”

“No,” Scott said sternly, although there was a smile on his face. “Do you remember that one rescue? The flood where the sewer lines were the first thing to fill?”

“Oh god,” Virgil groaned, starting to laugh again with a bit of wince. “And the whole town was suddenly attacked by exploding toilets?”

Gordon cracked up again. “I remember that! John got so many calls from the same area all stating that their toilets were spewing nastiness like Mt. Vesuvius.”

Scott shook his head, chuckling softly. “Ah, good times. Thankfully John realized that the water was rising quickly and we got the people out.”

Virgil choked on a laugh, snorting helplessly. “You remember when that Colonel tried to cut into Two?” he asked.

“Yeah? Why?” Scott asked back, tilting his head.

“I never told you this,” Virgil grinned. “But they were cutting directly into the sewage line. And it hadn’t been emptied since the last two rescues.”

Scott broke out into a full laugh then. “Oh gosh, I kind wish he’d managed,” he said once he had calmed a bit. Scott stretched a leg out and gently nudged Gordon’s side. “How you feeling Fish Feet?” he asked, still grinning.

“Better,” Gordon responded, rolling his eyes. It was clear he wasn’t talking about his back, because he still hadn’t moved off the floor, but he did seem to be in much better spirits. “Thanks.”

“Welcome. Virge?” Scott turned his attention to his other brother, who had calmed his laughter and was now lying curled on the couch, still protectively cradling his ribs.

“M’good,” he muttered, giving a small yawn. “Thank you.” 

Scott waggled his eyebrows. “Well, what are brothers for if they can’t make you laugh?” he asked. He waved his paper. “Just wait. I have so many other weird stories from the internet to tell you.”

And the screen went black.

**BombasticBabe832** 10 hours ago  
Holy crap. How did he read that with a straight face?! I’m dying!  
18.3k likes  
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**Cherry Styles** 9 hours ago  
Oh those poor babies. But seeing them laugh was so worth it!  
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**FranklyWonderful2** 8 hours ago  
But what about the story of John and the kitchen sink?!  
16k likes  
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**UmbrellaUmbrellaYou** 7 hours ago  
Are we going to get more Story Time With Scott episodes? Cause I’d be all for that!  
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**IScreamUScream32** 6 hours ago  
That poor housekeeper though! I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe, I swear.  
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	12. Chapter 12

“Hello world,” Penelope said, seated primly on a chair in the theater room. “The next video is a little chaotic,” she explained, looking a mix of amused and exasperated. “The boys were having some fun, it seems.” She shook her head and flipped some of her hair over her shoulder. “It should be amusing at least. I hope you enjoy.”

The screen faded to black, but it didn’t take long for a picture to come back up.

**“Hey** Gordon! The floor is lava!” It was Alan yelling, but the camera, placed in pretty much the same place as it had been for the Week in the Lounge video, picked up Gordon suddenly jumping up onto the desk, scattering pencils and pens. 

Scott, sitting at the desk, flung himself backwards in shock and then groaned, dropping his head to his hand. “Oh please, not this again.”

Gordon turned, grinning at his older brother. “Oh Scotty,” he sung, “This is only the beginning.”

**The** view changed. It was a view no one had seen and was definitely not at Tracy Villa. It was clean, white and gray with a few colors thrown in. Outside the glass was the vastness of space. This had to be Thunderbird Five, especially as John was seen walking down the hall. He startled a bit when Alan’s voice came over the com. “Hey John!”

“Yes, Alan?”

“The floor is lava!” 

John paused and then simply lifted his feet, crossing his legs and floating in the middle of the hall. The gravity was apparently off, and his suit was somehow able to keep him connected to the ground before. “Really, Sprout? I live in space.”

“Huh. Gotta get you land, Space-Face,” Alan muttered. John rolled his eyes and flipped the communicator off.

**The** view was the kitchen, where Scott was seen drinking a mug of what was presumably coffee. Alan wandered in, yawning widely and still wearing pajamas. He absently wrapped an arm around Scott, leaning into his back in a tired hug. Scott turned and squeezed his shoulders with one arm, still drinking his coffee. “Morning,” the older muttered.

“Morning,” Alan mumbled. He detached himself from his brother and slid around the kitchen island. “Oh. The floor is lava.”

Scott, without skipping a beat, jumped up to sit on the counter, still drinking his coffee. He’d managed the move without even spilling a drop. Alan just smirked at him.

“Scott Carpenter Tracy! You better not be sitting on the counter young man!” Grandma’s voice called down the stairs. 

Scott, startled, stared wide-eyed at Alan. “How does she do that?!” he whispered.

**They** were outside the Villa, on the deck. The camera was in someone’s hand and swung around to land on Gordon. The aquanaut was fully clothed in board shorts and a garish Hawaiian shirt, holding a drink of some kind in one hand. He looked to just be quietly enjoying the rather epic sunset. 

“The floor is lava!” Alan yelled, as he was the one holding the camera.

Gordon dropped the drink he was holding and dove straight into the pool. His drink splattered against the ground and Gordon surfaced, glaring. “Really, Allie?” he grumbled. He pulled himself out of the pool and started wringing out his shirt. 

**They** were in uniform, in what had to be the Hanger of Thunderbird Two, as you could just barely see the giant machine in the side of the view. Whoever was holding the camera was being incredibly careful to keep anything that could be classified from being seen, but was training the camera on Virgil, Gordon and Scott. The three were quietly discussing something at what had to be the tail end of a rescue.

While all three were in uniform, both Gordon and Scott were muddy and dirty while Virgil was still clean. He was holding himself as though he were a little pained, but it was clear that he hadn’t participated in the physical side of the rescue. He’d probably only been flying Two, in fact, as it was still far too soon for his injuries to have fully healed. 

“Hey, Virge!” Alan called from behind the camera. “The floor is lava!”

Virgil paused and then sank to lie on the ground. He stretched out as much as he comfortably could and then sighed. “Oh, thank heaven!” he groaned. “Let me burn.”

Alan and Gordon burst out laughing while Scott face palmed. “Virgil,” the eldest grumbled. Virgil, for his part didn’t reply other than to shift slightly and relax even more. “You gonna get back up?”

“The floor is cold,” Virgil mumbled, barely audible above Gordon and Alan’s laughter. 

Scott raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“It feels good.”

**The** scene changed to the lounge, where Alan was standing, arguing quietly with Scott about schoolwork. The person holding the camera snuck a little closer. “Allie! The floor is lava!”

Alan immediately jumped up onto Scott’s back, nearly knocking the elder to the floor. He wrapped his arms and legs around his brother like a koala and stared into the camera, eyebrow raised smugly.

“Alan,” Scott groaned, although his hands had automatically placed themselves under Alan’s thighs, holding his brother more securely on his back. “Really guys?”

Gordon laughed and the camera jostled. “He started it,” the aquanaut stated before wandering off. 

**Brains** and Virgil were seen, heads close together as they bent over a desk, conversely softly. It was in an unknown location, but that didn’t seem to matter. John popped up as a hologram near the two of them, watching silently. Neither noticed his presences, and John grinned.

“Brains! The floor is lava!”

Brains, for his part, was completely startled. He jumped, dropping a screwdriver and giving a yelp. And then he jumped up onto his desk. His reaction was a little slower than the brothers’, who had all apparently been so well trained in this game that their reactions were more like instinct. However, despite that, he still managed to make Virgil laugh by knocking all their work to the floor.

Brains glared at John’s hologram. “Really, John?” he asked. “I would have, uh, thought you’d b-be better than that.”

“Thought wrong,” John sang with an eyebrow wiggle before signing off.

**They** were in the lounge, Virgil standing in front of the desk. Kayo, her back to the camera, was seated on the desk and Scott was standing nearby, not part of the conversation but listening in all the same. The camera crept closer and Scott eyed it, having a clear view unlike the other two. And then Scott smirked.

“Virgil,” he calmly interrupted the discussion taking place. “The floor is lava.”

Virgil didn’t move from his spot, but promptly shoved Kayo off the desk. She hit the ground with a startled squawk, and Scott’s eyes widened. The person behind the camera choked. “Well, I’m not going down alone,” Virgil muttered, turning around and placidly walking off. 

Kayo gave a little growl and Scott hurriedly turned and walked away.

“What the heck?” the person behind the camera whispered and it went black just as Kayo turned on him.

**John** was on Earth, walking down the hallway outside the bedrooms, talking to Scott. “John! Floor is lava!” Alan called, jostling the camera a little

John moved, knocking Scott’s feet out from under him and promptly sitting on his older brother, as though the man were a raft. Alan nearly dropped the camera he was laughing so hard, and Scott was wheezing, the breath having been knocked out of him by the fall and subsequent squishing by the next oldest. 

John gazed calmly at Alan. “You were saying?” he asked, shifting to pin Scott down a little better when the elder moved to try and flip him off. 

“Oh my gosh,” Alan wheezed, still laughing. “What on Earth?”

“Mm-hmm,” John hummed, turning his attention to Scott, who was glaring up at him. “Something wrong, Scotty?”

“Get off.” 

John shifted, leaning forward and being sure to jab Scott with his elbows. “I dunno,” he said thoughtfully. “This is kinda comfortable. Might just take a nap.”

“John,” Scott growled.

John blinked, glancing at Alan, who was choking on his laughter. “Do you hear something, Sprout?”The camera shook, but Alan was laughing too hard to actually answer. “Didn’t think so.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed. “John,” he warned. He didn’t say anything else but suddenly twisted, flinging John off him and moving to pin the man down. Alan, still laughing, dropped the camera to join in the wrestling match. Just before the camera went black, you could see him tackling Scott.

**All** five boys were in the theater room, and Mario Kart was being projected on the wall. They hadn't started playing the game yet, gathering snacks and supplies as they were. The person behind the camera slipped further into the room. "Boys," Grandma stated. "The floor is lava."

There was a sudden scrabbling as four of the five dove for beanbags, chairs and couches. Alan ended up almost upside down in his chair, and John nearly missed his beanbag. Virgil, though, just sat down where he stood, calmly watching the chaos.

"Virgil, darling," Grandma stated from behind the camera. "I don't think you get the concept of the game."

"Oh no," he replied, grinning up at her. "I get it."

Scott rolled his eyes. "He wants to burn," he said, stretching out a leg to nudge Virgil's shoulder gently with his toes.

Gordon snickered, getting more comfortable on his couch. "If I didn't know him, I'd be worried," he laughed, grabbing his controller. "You guys ready to play?" he asked.

There was another, shorter and calmer scramble as everyone reached for their controllers. Grandma, still behind the camera, gave a sigh.

**"The** floor is lava," Virgil serenely stated as all five brothers stood on the ramp of Thunderbird Two. They were all in uniform, and John was actually down from Five and on whatever rescue this was. There was silence from all four of Virgil's brothers at his comment, all of them staring at the end of the ramp.

The camera, what had to be a security camera for the Bird, turned and focused on the ground.

About six feet from the metal ramp, there was a flow of lava running down the mountain.

"Huh," Alan grunted. "I say we end the game now."

"Agreed," Gordon replied. And the other three nodded, still staring at the lava as it calmly flowed past.

And the screen faded to black, only to come back up with Lady Penelope in the theater room, smiling at the camera. "What you saw was only the filmed portions of that game," she explained. "Something you need to understand about the Tracy boys is that they're a very competitive bunch, and take games like these seriously."

She gave a soft sigh, shaking her head. "The game lasted for two weeks before they were called out to a volcano rescue. The casualties included two lamps, a tablet, six mugs and one entire platter of roast chicken. Scott nearly sprained an ankle, Alan nearly got a concussion, Gordon twisted his wrist, and John quite nearly broke an arm. Virgil remained unscathed because he refused to participate."

Penny smiled at the camera, eyebrow raised. "Please, for the love of all things holy, don't suggest another game like this. The island is at risk."

And the screen went black for good.

**ThankfulForU9** 10 hours ago  
OMG. The fact that they all just automatically respond. It's like it's ingrained or something.  
15.3k likes  
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**Henry Marksmith** 9 hours ago  
Did we just see Thunderbird Five? And the elusive Hanger? Because of a children's game?!  
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**GrandmaJones72** 8 hours ago  
Virgil, honey, are you okay?  
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**Priscilla Perkins** 7 hours ago  
But John just full on taking down Scott! I mean honestly! No wonder they nearly broke the island with this game!  
13.6k likes  
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**0028372198kat** 6 hours ago  
Hah! They even got Brains in on it!  
13k likes  
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**NakiriSaysHi** 5 hours ago  
But what other games can we get them playing on camera?  
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	13. Game On!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which many games are played.

The video started out by pool, held in the hand of Grandma Tracy, which was only known because she was the one speaking. "Hello world," her mature voice said, filled with amusement. "A few of you commented that the boys seemed rather competitive in the last video. It's true. Just watch."

The camera focused on the pool, where a lively game of water volley ball was happening. There was no net, but John was floating on an inflatable float directly in the middle of the pool, watching the happenings. He, apparently, was filling in for the net and allowing for there to be two equal teams.

Scott and Alan were on one side, slamming the ball into the water just in front of Virgil, who sputtered. Gordon, though, avenged his teammate by spiking the ball back over John and nearly hitting Scott in the face. There was yelling, laughing and the occasional dunking. And when John said a disparaging comment aimed at all four of his brothers, they all turned on him and seemingly tried to drown him.

The scene changed to a game of pool in the lounge, where two of the boys were going at it. Virgil and Alan were watching, John nowhere to be seen, while Scott and Gordon played against each other. Again, there was a lot of smack talk and laughing happening, even from the sidelines, and Gordon finally sunk his last ball, crowing his victory over Scott.

The next game was a game of Uno, where the battle was fierce. They were doing their utmost to keep each other from winning, sitting around the holo-table. Alan finally laid down his last card, throwing his arms up in victory, only to be pushed over by John.

A video game competition that ended in a laughing wrestling pile at the accusations of cheating were flung.

A game of twister ending with Virgil sabotaging everyone and all but him ending up in a giant, laughing pile.

A game of catch between Alan and Scott somehow ended with Alan being thrown in the pool.

A diving competition between all five boys ended with Gordon winning, of course, but the rest trying to drown him when he gloated just a little too much.

And then the video showed them all seated on the ground in the lounge, arranged in a neat circle. Grandma was holding the camera, sitting in a chair behind them. Kayo, Brains and Lady Penelope had joined them for this game, and a bottle lay on the ground in front of them.

"I've got them sitting down to play a game that hopefully won't end in anything broken," Grandma explained. "They'll be playing Truth or Dare."

Scott huffed, leaning back on his arms, stretched out behind him. "You should know better, Grandma," he grinned. "This game is the most dangerous of all."

"Which is why I'm adding a few rules this time around," Grandma rejoined. "There is no purposely endangering anyone with their dares. No asking extremely personal questions. If you don't want to answer, you don't have to. But you'll have to answer a different question."

They all nodded; it was nothing new apparently. Grandma had always said that there needed to be rules to this game or it could get out of control.

Alan spun the bottle first, as he was the youngest. They all watched as it landed on Kayo. "Alrighty," he said, tilting his head. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," the security agent responded. Her back was to the camera, but you could hear her grin.

"I dare you to put an ice-cube in your pocket and leave it there."

There were befuddled blinks all around but then Kayo shrugged. She fished a large ice cube out of her drink and shoved it in her pocket. It immediately began to melt, and it wasn't long before she squirmed a little. "Okay, I wasn't expecting that to be so uncomfortable," she muttered as she reached out to spin the bottle.

John responded with Truth when the bottled landed on him and he relaxed a little, leaning back against the piano leg behind him, ignoring Virgil's arched look. "What's the most trouble you've ever gotten into with your parents?" she asked him, and he sighed.

"Really?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "I got arrested once, when I was in college." He reached around Gordon to shove at Penny. "I fully blame you for that, by the way."

She gave a prim snort. "I wasn't the one with the drugs, John."

Scott was looking between the two, eyebrows raised. "Why haven't I heard this story?"

"Why haven't we?" Gordon asked, motioning to himself and Alan. Virgil was just smiling slightly, exchanging looks with Brains that were very telling—they'd both heard this story apparently.

John shrugged. "Not much to tell. The drugs weren't mine, nor were they Penny's."

"You just happened to have them on you?" Scott asked, still sounding befuddled.

"Something like that." John reached out and spun the bottle, watching as it landed on Brains. "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," Brains said, feeling that would be the better option than Truth when it came to playing with these guys. Besides, John wouldn't make him do anything too humiliating.

John grinned. "Lick the face of the person sitting on your right."

Brains turned bright red, glancing over at Virgil, who was sitting on his right. Virgil, for his part, just rolled his eyes, flipping John off. With a put-upon sigh, Brains got onto his knees, apologized to Virgil and licked the side of his face from chin to temple.

Everyone was laughing as the engineer sat back down, glaring at the redheaded astronaut. He grumbled under his breath as he spun the bottle, watching it land on Penny. "Lady P?"

"I'll take a truth, dear," Penny replied serenely. For all that she was sitting on the floor, she looked completely at peace and just as lady-like as usual.

"Who is the m-most, uh, attractive person in this r-room?" Brains asked with a smug smile.

Penny blinked at him and then glared, her mouth twisting into a frown. "You would ask a question like that among company as pretty as this, wouldn't you Hiram," she grumbled. He wiggled her eyebrows at her and she huffed. "The most attractive?"

There was a pause as she regarded all of her companions. "Well, Kayo is the prettiest," she said, to which Kayo gave a small bow, shifting due to the water now soaking through her shorts. "And Scott has the prettiest eyes. Alan's the cutest by far." Alan rolled his eyes, shoving at John who was snickering at him. "And Virgil's definitely the most buff. But I'd have to say that Gordon is the most attractive."

"You just have a thing for blondes, Pen," John laughed. "And Alan's much too young for you."

"But have you seen Gordon's arms and chest?" Penny responded, her smile turning a little lascivious as Gordon blushed. "All that swimming makes for a perfect physique." John narrowed his eyes, smirking, and Penny all but grinned at him. Gordon mumbled something, hiding his face.

"Okay! Moving on!" Alan called out before the conversation got even more out of hand, and Penny gave the bottle a spin. "I choose dare," Alan responded, before she could ask as the bottle landed on him.

"Allow Kayo and Grandma to give you a makeup makeover," Penny said. Alan stared at her for a moment and then shrugged.

The video cut to them all sitting back down, in a somewhat different configuration as before, but all still relaxed. Alan's face had makeup on his face, very tastefully done. "You look quite pretty," Gordon laughed. "I especially like the purple eyeshadow."

Honestly, the makeup did look very good, although a little out of place on the boy. There was the purple eyeshadow, which complimented his eyes, and winged eyeliner. They'd gone a more natural route with his cheeks, but his lips were a subtle pink. He wasn't really one for makeup, but he didn't look nearly as uncomfortable as Penny thought he would have. Alan didn't comment, and spun the bottle.

"I'll take truth," Virgil said when the bottle landed on him.

"Uh huh," Alan grunted, leaning forward to rest his chin on his fist. He stared at his brother for a long moment. "How did you know you were in love?" he asked, smiling slightly.

Virgil looked a little startled by the question before his face flushed slightly. "Um…when I found that seeing them smile was the best part of my day. When I realized I was happy to be in their company even when we weren't talking about anything. When all I wanted was to see them after a long rescue."

There was a chorus of "awws" from the people in the room, and about half the gathering squished Virgil into a messy group hug. Alan was grinning, pleased by the answer, and he gave the camera a wink. "He's a softy, our Virgil," he said, and Grandma chuckled.

Virgil finally freed himself and grumbled as he spun the bottle. It landed on Scott, who immediately picked Truth with a comment about not wanting any sappy questions thrown his way. Virgil rolled his eyes. "I dare you to be more careful on rescues," he muttered.

Scott threw a throw pillow at his brother, but Virgil caught it before it could hit him. "C'mon little brother, a real dare."

"Yeah," John snarked, rolling his eyes dramatically. "We all know that's not going to happen."

Scott turned to glare at him, but Grandma halted any commotion that could have started with a stern, "Boys."

"Fine," Virgil said, thinking. "I dare you to dance ballet for the camera."

Scott's glare intensified, and Virgil gave him a smug look. The others all started crowing, egging him on until he got up, backed up a few paces and did a few quick moves ending in a spin that was entirely too professional for it to have been spur-of-the-moment. In fact, all of the moves he had done had looked practiced and perfected if a little wobbly in his socks on a wooden floor.

"Scott did ballet through high-school," Grandma explained, much to Scott's consternation as he slumped back into a sitting position. "He also did figure-skating."

"So manly," Gordon teased.

"Ah yes," Penny hummed. "Dancing with women in skin tight clothing, lifting them, dipping them. I mean, it makes more sense than that 'manly' game with the men in tights talking each other over a ball."

Scott grinned then, reaching for the bottle. "I got so many dates," he said, giving the bottle a spin. "Truth or dare, little brother?" he asked Gordon.

"Truth," Gordon replied, stretching a little. The others didn't say anything about him not picking dare, even if it was out of character for him; it was obvious his back was aching.

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?" Scott asked, grinning widely. Gordon had a history of embarrassing moments, it would be interesting to see which one was the 'most' in his opinion.

Gordon sat for a long moment, stroking in his chin in thought. "The most embarrassing thing…" he grimaced then. "So, when I was like seven, I was hiding in Mom and Dad's closet to scare them, right? Only, it was late at night and everyone was supposed to be asleep…and before I could manage to scare them I saw far, far more than my poor innocent brain should ever have seen."

There was horrified silence from the group and then everyone burst into hysterical laughter. "Only you, Gords," Scott choked, and even Grandma was chuckling from behind the camera.

"I always wondered why your parents insisted you needed The Talk that early," Grandma laughed, and Gordon's face—already bright red—dropped into his hands. "Of course," Grandma continued, humor filling her tone. "That's not as bad as when Scott, Kayo and John decided that it was time for Alan to have The Talk, not knowing I'd already given it to him."

Alan groaned, flinging a hand to his face as the others all continued laughing. "They were so awkward!" he cried. "It's like all of them forgot how to speak!"

"Hey, Sprout," Scott said, shoving at him a little. "Give me a break. I didn't think I'd have to deal with that until I had kids of my own."

Gordon opened his mouth to say something, but an alarm went off, startling everyone into moving. Grandma sighed, and the camera lowered. "Well, I suppose that's the end of that."

And the screen went black.

**BarbaraBatGirl** 10 hours ago  
Do all their games end in physical contact of some sort?  
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**Ransackthelands** 9 hours ago  
Oh Gordon. There are a lot of us that have been there. I feel your pain and offer you some of my brain bleach. It doesn't work but…yeah…  
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**TommyClimbsTreesToo** 8 hours ago  
Scott does ballet?!  
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**LippyDippy83** 7 hours ago  
But who's drugs were they John? Why did you have them? I want answers!  
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**Susan Weeber** 6 hours ago  
Aww! Virgil's in love and its so sweet! Who's your sweetheart, Virgil?  
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Matt Mosulfelt 5 hours ago  
Thanks Grandma! I enjoyed that!  
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	14. I Could Have Danced All Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys can't even enjoy a night out.

"Hello world," Lady Penelope's voice came through the camera, although she wasn't in sight. In fact, the view was that of an elegant ballroom, filled with people in fancy clothing. "I'm here tonight at the World Charity Fundraiser. It's a ball for all the rich and famous to come and donate money to help those affected by natural disasters."

She wandered through the crowd, able to weave in and out without colliding with anyone. "The Tracy brothers are here with me. It's a rare occasion for all five of them to be at one of these at once." She rounded a small group of people and focused the camera on the boys.

They were definitely a sight to behold, in their fancy tuxes. Scott and Gordon were both in dark blue, Virgil and Alan in black, and John in white. Each of them wore a tie that was the color of their IR sashes, and the tuxes were tailored to fit them perfectly. As fancy as they looked, however, they were utterly bored.

"Hello boys," Penelope said, and she caught their answering smiles on camera. "The world would like to know what you think of the party."

Scott rolled his eyes and waved an absent hand. Virgil huffed and Alan and Gordon both groaned. John gave a small sigh. "Honestly, it's an excuse for the top one percent of the world to get together and brag about how rich they are and pretend to actually care about everyone else that they normally think are below them," he answered, running a hand through his red hair.

Penelope paused. "That's a rather cynical outlook," she commented softly.

"But not a wrong one," Scott muttered. He gave a deep sigh, relaxing his shoulders. "The cause is a good one, I'm not going to deny that. But the people involved…" he shrugged. "I'd rather just go home."

"We would all rather go home," Alan grumbled. "I'd rather be doing homework, and I hate homework."

"You can't leave until after the dancing," Penelope pointed out. All five boys groaned, and she laughed. "Yes, dears, there's dancing. And our boys don't like to dance."

"That's not true," Scott refuted. "We just don't like dancing with people that are only trying to suck up to us cause we're richer than they are."

Virgil crossed his arms across his chest, just short of glaring at the camera. "They don't seem to realize that we aren't interested in anything other than a single dance. And some don't take no for an answer." There was a story there, but judging from his scowl, and the sudden dark look John and Gordon both shot him, they weren't going to be getting that story.

"Speaking of," Scott said, turning to his brothers. "Alan—"

"I'm sticking with Moffie," Alan spoke up, motioning to where Moffie could just barely be seen near the bar.

"Moffie was invited at Alan's Plus-One," Penelope explained. "Mostly as a favor to keep everyone from trying to take advantage of the Tracy Baby." Alan rolled his eyes again, flipping the bird towards Penelope, who laughed at the crassness of it.

There was waltz music starting in the background, and the boys all shuffled for a moment. Moffie appeared at Alan's shoulder, smiling at the camera and Penelope. Kayo was suddenly taking Scott's arm, and Penny was handing the camera off to Virgil as she took Gordon's hand. "Hello world," Virgil murmured, moving to the side of the room, training the camera on his brothers and their dancing partners. "Seems I'm the only one without a date tonight." He didn't sound particularly upset by the fact, instead his voice had a rather fond tilt to it. "My 'snuggle-bunny', as Moffie puts it, doesn't like these kinds of get-togethers."

He focused the camera on Scott and Kayo, who were waltzing circles around others dressed in fancy clothes and jewels that probably cost as much as a normal family's car. Kayo's dress was a dark green, and she wore some fiery red rubies that had once belonged to their mother. The two were smiling at each other, and Scott raised one hand to gently brush some stray hair from Kayo's face, tucking it back into her elaborate bun. "They look like they're having fun," Virgil said happily. "That's good. They've been working a lot lately. Been under a lot of stress."

The camera moved to where Moffie and Alan were dancing a jig, despite the waltz music, and Virgil laughed. The two were bumping into people and causing a bit of a scene, but Scott upon noticing them just smiled and let them continue. People were grumbling, but no one was going to outright complain about the baby of the richest family in the world, were they?

Virgil moved on to where Gordon and Penelope were dancing a waltz, perhaps a bit closer than strictly necessary. They were talking quietly, and Gordon looked happier and more serious than he'd ever looked on camera. Penelope was looking gorgeous in her slinky pink dress and diamonds, and she looked soft and happy dancing with Gordon. Virgil didn't say anything, moving the camera on to pan amongst the other guests. No one looked as happy has his brothers did with their partners. In fact, it looked a lot like they were all putting on a show of some sort.

Virgil took a breath, clearly about to say something to the camera when there was a sudden crashing and a lot of screaming. Virgil let out a vicious swear and the camera went dark.

When the screen came back up, Penelope was in focus. Her hair was a mess, her dress dirty and slightly torn and one of her diamond earrings was missing. Gordon was beside her, his face a bit bruised, and he looked angry. "Hello again," Penelope said softly. "We're all alive." There was chaos going on behind them, people squealing and crying and police sirens.

"No thanks to anyone else," Gordon grumbled. He was watching something past the camera, frowning darkly.

Penelope nudged him, keeping the camera focused on her. "Some low-lives tried to hold up the ball," she explained. "They didn't think it through."

"Clearly not," Alan said as he came into focus. His hair was mussed and he was missing his tie, but overall looked unharmed. "Scott was in the Air Force, Gordon was in Special Forces in WASP, Virgil's a tank and John's a secret ninja."

"Not to mention your own ninja-ness," Gordon said, shooting Alan an impressed look. "Seriously kid, where'd you learn that?"

Alan shrugged. "Kayo." Gordon nodded and Penelope gave a soft 'oh'. That, obviously, explained it all.

Penelope turned back to the camera. "Apparently these jokers heard that all five Tracys were going to be here tonight and decided that not only were they going to rob everyone here, but they were going to kidnap the boys and hold them for ransom."

"Fifteen against five—six, if you include Kayo, and you should really include Kayo," Gordon said.

"It wasn't really a fair fight for them," Alan continued, shrugging again. "You know, once we got the weapons away from them."

Penelope turned the camera around then, focusing on where Scott, Virgil and John were talking to the police. There were still a lot of fancy-dressed people milling about in various states of disarray and distress. They had, apparently, not been much help and still weren't much help.

John's tux was torn along his arm, and blood stained the white material. He didn't seem too concerned, although Virgil was gripping his upper arm and whispering to him every once and a while. Scott's knuckles were torn and bruised, and Virgil himself was looking a little harried, but they were all standing. Kayo and Moffie stood off to the side, both looking overall okay, even though Kayo's dress had been torn and Moffie was missing her glasses.

"I was enjoying my dance, too," Penelope said, her voice just a little short of being sad.

Gordon gave a sigh. "Next time, we'll go dancing without the added drama," he promised.

Penelope laughed. "Oh Gordon, dear. There's always drama where you boys are concerned."

"Ain't that the truth," Alan grumbled.

And the camera went black.

**CandySays555** 8 hours ago  
Holy crap. All they probably wanted was a nice night out! This doesn't seem remotely fair!  
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**MisterMoJo87** 7 hours ago  
Okay, note to everyone out there: Don't make the Tracys mad. They can and will take you down.  
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**HoneyLemonTea** 6 hours ago  
Wait, wait, wait. Focus on the beginning. When they were dancing. Are Scott and Kayo dating? And Gordon and Lady Penelope? They certainly looked close!  
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**Robert Dawson** 5 hours ago  
Dang I wish someone had filmed the fight.  
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	15. Soup's On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John makes his little brother some soup. And his big brother gets some by default.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to point out that I haven't watched any TAG episodes since the one where the Mechanic tore Thunderbird Four in half. (I don't have Amazon Prime, so I can't seem to watch it...)

"Hello world," Penelope said, seated daintily on the kitchen counter of Tracy island's home. John was standing nearby, arms crossed, looking amused. "We're doing another cooking video today. Care to explain why dearest?"

"Alan's sick," John said, giving a small, sympathetic smile. "Nasty case of bronchitis. So I'm down from Five in order to handle Three while he's out of commission, and I figured we could make him some soup."

"What kind of soup?" Penny asked, leaning forward by resting her elbows on her thighs. She cupped her chin in her hands and absently flicked some hair from her face. She was, oddly enough, wearing jeans and a simple pink blouse today. And she was barefoot—it was the most casual anyone had ever seen Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward on film. Ever.

John, dressed in an old NASA t-shirt and skinny jeans, gave her a smile. "The only acceptable soup when one is sick. Chicken Noodle. Grandma Ruth's recipe." He pulled their large notebook recipe book towards himself from where it was resting on the counter.

Penny chuckled. "For those out of the know, Grandma Ruth is Mama Tracy's mother. Grandma Sally, who lives on the island here, is Papa Tracy's."

"Yup," John drawled, a hint of an accent coming through. "Both of them were best friends growing up, so Mom and Dad grew up with each other. They said it was practically inevitable that they would either end up married or hate each other's guts."

"Thank goodness they ended up married" Penny said with a small grin. John shrugged, placing a large pot on the stove and turning on the heat. "We're cheating a little," the woman continued. "John made the stock for the soup a while ago and had it stored."

John turned to look at the camera, running a hand through his red hair. "Virgil's the baker, I'm the cook. We tend to stock up on things a bit when we're able. It will make the recipe a bit easier to follow though, so if you guys at home want to cook it, just know that you can use pre-made materials too."

"First step," Penny said, leaning over to read from the book. "Melt a tablespoon of butter in your pot." She watched as John plopped in a tablespoon of butter. He then grabbed the cutting board on the counter, the one covered in chopped onion and celery. "And then add in half a cup of chopped onion, and half a cup of chopped celery."

John stirred the vegetables, for a bit. "Penny, darling, why don't you regale the audience with a story of some sort. This needs to cook for about five minutes."

Penny leaned back. "Well, I could tell them about how we met," she suggested. "How I saved a shy, anti-social country bumpkin from making an utter fool of himself at Oxford."

John shot her an arched look. "As I recall," he drawled, "You're the one that tripped on the stairs and fell into me, dearest."

"I don't remember any such happenings," Penny said, turning her nose up with a scoff.

John laughed, a gentle soft laugh that sounded as freeing as it looked. "Of course you don't. She has a point though," he said to the camera. "I was a shy, anti-social country bumpkin."

"Can break a horse faster than anyone I've ever met, though," Penny said. "Much to Scott's disgust."

John shrugged, setting his ladle aside and grabbing two jars of liquid. "Scooter has a superiority complex. He likes being the best, and despite all the rodeo wins he's got, it annoys him that I was the one that trained his horses first." He made a little wiggly gesture towards the book. "Recipe, Pen-dear."

"Right," she said, looking back to the stained pages. "Add in fourteen point five ounces of both chicken and vegetable stocks." She waited until John had poured the jars into the pot. "And then add in your cooked chicken breast—half a pound."

"Chop it first, into bite-sized pieces," John added, scraping the chicken off a different cutting board and into the pot, where it splashed slightly.

"And add your one and a half cups of egg noodles," Penny said, her finger sliding along the page. She glanced up. "Do you make your own noodles?" she asked.

John shrugged, grabbing a store-bought package. "Sometimes," he said. "Not today, though." He ripped open the package and dumped them in. "Next?"

"One cup of sliced carrots, and half a teaspoon of both oregano and basil. And salt and pepper to taste." She sat back again. "And then bring to a boil, reduce heat and let simmer for twenty minutes." There was a pause, as John continued stirring the pot. "That really is a simple recipe."

John nodded. "The recipe itself is simple. What makes it special to us is actually the recipe for the chicken broth. And the vegetable broth, for that matter."

"Will you be sharing those?" Penny asked.

John shook his head, turning towards her as he let the soup simmer. "No. It wouldn't be Grandma Ruth's special recipe if I just let the whole world in on the secret, you know?"

"I suppose not," Penelope acquiesced. "We've got about twenty minutes to kill. What should we talk about?"

"These videos are all on you, dear," John said with a smirk. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist and giving her a knowing look.

She huffed, reaching out to push at his shoulder, which did very little to move him. "How did Alan get sick, anyway?"

John gave an elegant shrug, not bothering to straighten. "Assisted Virgil and Gordon in a flooding rescue and got a little wet. Caught a cold and it just got worse." He sighed. "It happens."

Penny nodded. "What's the worst sickness the five of you have battled?" she asked, thinking about interesting questions that the world may want to know the answers to.

John raised a single eyebrow, but then rolled his eyes and answered. "From youngest to oldest, Alan got Scarlet Fever once about a year and a half ago. That was terrifying. Gordon got sepsis while in the hospital after the hydrofoil crash. Virgil goes down with any sickness; his immune system is pretty much shot after the avalanche and resultant hospital stay. That's why he's so up to date with every vaccine and immunization imaginable. Scott once caught pneumonia that nearly killed him." He paused, thinking for a moment. "I don't get sick very often, but when I was a kid, I got chicken pox and had to be hospitalized because of it. I was even vaccinated but fell into that tiny percentile that it didn't work with."

Penny huffed, nodding and looking thoughtful. "Worst scars?" she asked, glancing over to the still simmering pot as John straightened to give it a bit of a stir.

John shot her a scowling look. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Chicks dig scars?" At John's disbelieving glance, she rolled her eyes. "That's what I've heard anyway. I'm just trying to remember some of the questions our viewers have asked."

John gave a long sigh, pausing a bit. "You have to remember that scars come from injuries, and injuries aren't generally things we like to bring up. Especially the worst ones." When Penny said nothing, he slumped a little, not looking at her or the camera. His green eyes were a little distant, but he answered regardless. "Scott has a scar across his collarbones, right near his neck. You can't see it unless he's not wearing a shirt. He got it on some classified mission in the Air Force. The one he received a medal for."

"You don't know the specifics?" Penny asked softly.

"I know it gives him nightmares," John said just as soft. He gazed at her for a long moment. "I have a scar in the middle of my back. A burn scar about the size of my palm. It's from when the Hood shot a missile at Thunderbird Five and nearly killed me."

"Right," Penny said with a scowl. "Back before the world knew you guys were the Thunderbirds."

John nodded. "Virgil has a scar on his wrist. Gordon's obviously the most scarred out of all of us; his back can be mistaken for a road map. That's from the hydrofoil crash and the resultant surgeries." Penny noticed how he glossed over his next younger brother's injuries, but let it slide.

"And Alan?" she asked, tilting her head to one side, hair falling over her shoulder.

"Alan has a scar running the length of his right leg. It's from a rescue gone bad in the Maldives." He shrugged. "We've all had our fair share of injuries. Could you possibly change the subject to something less morbid?"

Penny gave an apologetic smile. "Okay. What pets have you had over the years?" she asked, giggling at John's incredulous look. "Clearly you guys don't have pets now, but you were ranchers. You had to have had a pet or two in your life."

"We've mentioned the horses," John pointed out. He rolled his eyes at her prodding gesture. Turning, he grabbed two bowls from a cabinet and reached over to turn the heat off the stove. "Let's see. When we were really little, Mom had a cat named Pickles. And then when Gordon was born we had a dog named Ryker." He paused, dishing the soup into the two bowls. "We had our horses, about eight of them total. I won't bother naming all of them." He paused, thinking. "There was Barnaby, Virgil's cat. Gordon's always had some fish around. Alan had a turtle for a while." There was a slight shrug. "We haven't had any since IR started up though."

"Ever consider getting another cat or dog?" Penny asked. "Obviously the horses wouldn't work out here."

"We still have horses at the ranch," John answered, grabbing the soup bowls and heading for the stairs. "And no. We don't really have the time to take care of an animal on top of juggling everything else."

Penelope grabbed the camera and followed him up the stairs, past the lounge and up to the bedrooms. She waited outside while John snuck into Scott's room, the camera just barely catching sight of Scott rocking a bundled up Alan in his rocking chair. John and Scott conversed far too quietly for the camera to pick up and the second eldest placed the soup on the desk and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Was there anything else you needed, Pen?" John asked, looking down at her with a soft smile.

"Not at all, John-darling," she said. And the camera went black.

**SandySiles887** 7 hours ago  
Oh poor Alan. Bronchitis sucks. At least his big brothers are there to take care of him.  
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**Randy Randson** 6 hours ago  
There are clearly some stories we still need to hear. I mean, I know about the hydrofoil thing. Everyone does. But the other stories. A missile? What missile?  
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**SnickersOrDeath** 5 hours ago  
I forget that these boys were ranchers first and billionaires second. And then Thunderbirds third or fourth or something. Damn  
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**OllieOllieOxen** 4 hours ago  
Honestly, what is the relationship that Lady Penelope has with John? Are they like platonic soulmates or something?  
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**YouBetterKnowMe** 3 hours ago  
We need to get these boys a dog.  
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End file.
